"  '  Very  well,  I  shall  expect  to  hear  from  you' 


THE  ROSE  OF 
OLD  ST.  LOUIS 


BY 


MARY  DILLON 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 
ANDRg  CASTAIGNE  AND  C.  M.  RELYEA 


NEW     YORK 

GROSSET     &     DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1904,  by 
THE  CENTURY  Co. 

Published  July,  1904 

Eeprinted  July,  1904,  August,  1904, 
September,  1904,  October,  1904 
December,  1904,  January,  1906 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

i  I  MAKE  MY  Bow  IN  CAHOKIA 3 

ii  I  PROPOSE  A  TOAST 17 

in  I  MEET  AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE 31 

rv  I  MAKE  AN  ENGAGEMENT 44 

v  I  Go  TO  A  PICNIC  ON  CHOUTEAU'S  POND    ...    55 

vi  WHIPPOORWILLS 79 

vn  I  TWINE  CHRISTMAS  GREENS 92 

vin  I  Go  TO  MIDNIGHT  MASS 104 

rs  MADAME  CHOUTEAU'S  BALL ,  119 

x  LA  GUIGNOLEE 135 

xi  CHOISSEZ  LE  Roi 147 

xn  A  MIDNIGHT  FRAY 157 

xiii  "  A  PRETTY  BOY  !  " 168 

xiv  A  CREOLE  LOVE-SONG 181 

xv"AuREVom" 203 

xvi  A  VIRGINIA  FARMER 212 

xvii  A  GREAT  DEBATE 225 

xvin  A  MAGIC  COACH 245 

xix  CHECK  TO  THE  ABBE  ! 266 

vii 


912723 


v 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

xx  BONAPARTE  GIVES  ENGLAND  A  RIVAL  .    .    .    .  Jbl 

xxi  A  TEMPEST  IN  A  BATH-TUB  ........  308 

xxn  MB.  MONROE  ARRIVES!    .........  328 

xxm  THE  CONSUL'S  SENTENCE     ........  338 

xxiv  A  NEW  CHEVALIER  OP  FRANCE     ......  363 

xxv  THE  COMTESSE  DE  BALOIT   SENDS   FOR   HER 

HUNTER     ............    •  375 

xxvi  THE  CONSUL'S  COMMISSION  ........  386 

xxvn  "GOOD-BY,  SWEETHEART!  "     .......  397 

xxviii  EXIT  LE  CHEVALIER    ..........  414 

xxix  UNDER  THE  OLD  FLAG    .........  426 

xxx  THE  ROSE  OF  ST.  Louis  .........  448 


FOREWORD 

MY  story  does  not  claim  to  be  history,  but  in  every  im 
portant  historical  detail  it  is  absolutely  faithful  to  the 
records  of  the  times  as  I  have  found  them.  Every 
word  of  the  debate  in  Congress,  every  word  of  Mar- 
bois,  Livingston,  Decres,  Napoleon,  and  his  two  bro 
thers  on  the  subject  of  the  Louisiana  Cession  is  verba 
tim  from  the  most  authentic  accounts.  I  am  indebted 
for  the  historical  part  of  my  story  to  Gayarre's  "  His 
tory  of  Louisiana,"  to  Martin's  ''History  of  Louisi 
ana,"  to  James  K.  Hosmer's  "History  of  the  Loui 
siana  Purchase,"  to  Lucien  Bonaparte's  "Memoirs," 
to  numerous  lives  of  Napoleon,  Jefferson,  Talleyrand, 
and  others,  and  particularly  to  Marbois  himself,  whose 
account  of  the  negotiations  on  the  subject  of  the  ces 
sion  is  preserved  in  his  own  handwriting  in  the  St. 
Louis  Mercantile  Library. 

As  to  the  local  color  of  old  St.  Louis,  both  in  its 
topographical  setting  and  in  its  customs,  I  have  also 
tried  to  be  exact.  And  here  I  am  very  largely  in 
debted  to  that  simple  and  charming  old  writer,  H.  M. 

xi 


xii  FOREWORD 

Brackenridge,  in  his  "Recollections  of  the  West"  and 
in  his  "Views  of  Louisiana";  and  also  to  Timothy 
Flint  in  his  "Recollections";  to  J.  Thomas  Scharf's 
interesting  "History  of  St.  Louis,"  and  especially  to 
Mr.  Frederic  L.  Billon,  St.  Louis's  historian  par 
eminence.  I  make  also  the  same  claim  for  exactness 
as  to  the  local  color  of  Washington  at  that  early  day ; 
for  which  I  have  made  so  many  gleanings  in  many 
fields — a  little  here,  a  little  there — that  it  seems  hardly 
worth  while  to  give  special  credit  to  each. 

In  non-essential  points  I  have  occasionally  taken 
the  liberty  belonging  to  a  writer  of  fiction,  having 
condensed  into  one  several  debates  in  Congress,  as 
well  as  several  interviews  between  Talleyrand  and 
Livingston,  and  two  interviews  between  Bonaparte 
and  Marbois. 

Nor  have  I  hesitated  to  use  the  names  of  the  early 
St.  Louis  settlers,  because  they  are  names  still  well 
known  and  honored  in  the  city  which  they  helped  to 
found.  I  have  touched  upon  them  but  lightly,  and 
have  tried  to  make  those  touches  true  to  the  char 
acters  of  those  estimable  gentlemen  and  gentlewomen 
of  the  old  French  regime. 

MARY  DILLON. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  *  Very  well,  I  shall  expect  to  hear  from  you ' "    .  Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

"  For  the  chevalier  had  certainly  been  caught  spying,  if 

nothing  worse  " 72 

"  In  solitary  dignity  stood  Black  Hawk  " 152 

«<  Welcome  to  the  White  House!7" 222 

"  He  stopped  and  turned  suddenly  to  the  two  ministers  "  294 

"  Rushed  straight  toward  him  " 324 

The  Signing  of  the  Louisiana  Purchase    Treaty  by 

Marbois,  Livingston,  and  Monroe 370 

11  Pelagie  came  running  out  of  the  shadow,  both  hands 

extended"   .  402 


THE  ROSE  OF 
OLD  ST.  LOUIS 


THE 

ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

CHAPTER  I 

I   MAKE   MY   BOW   IN    CAHOKIA 

"  The  best-laid  schemes  o'  mice  an'  men 
Gang  aft  a-gley." 

"  AND  this  is  the  village  of  St.  Louis,  sir?" 
j(\.  I  bowed  respectfully  to  my  captain  standing  in 
the  prow  of  the  boat  and  looking  across  an  expanse  of 
swirling  muddy  water  to  the  village  on  the  bluffs  be 
yond.  I  spoke  more  after  the  manner  of  making 
polite  conversation  than  because  I  was  desirous  of  in 
formation,  for  I  knew  without  asking  that  it  could  be 
none  other. 

My  captain  answered  me:  "Yes,  my  lad,  yonder  is 
St.  Louis,  and  this  is  De  Soto  's  river ;  what  dost  think 
of  it?" 

' '  I  think,  sir,  't  is  a  great  river,  though  not  so  clear 
a  stream  as  the  Delaware,  and  muddier  even  than  the 
Ohio." 

I  spoke  calmly,  but  my  heart  was  beating  fast,  and 
I  could  feel  the  blood  rushing  through  my  veins.  I 
had  been  ill  with  what  the  boatmen  call  river  fever, 

3 


4  TEE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

and  had  lain  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat  wrapped  in  my 
blanket,  alternately  shivering  with  chills  and  burning 
with  fever,  oblivious  to  all  about  me,  so  that  I  had  not 
known  when  we  swept  out  of  the  Ohio  into  the  Mis 
sissippi,  past  Fort  Massac,  nor  when  we  had  tied  up 
at  Kaskaskia  for  a  long  rest. 

We  had  landed  late  the  evening  before  at  Cahokia, 
and  been  most  hospitably  entertained  by  Mr.  Gratiot. 
There  had  been  a  great  banquet  in  honor  of  Captain 
Clarke,  with  dancing  far  into  the  night,  and  many 
guests  from  St.  Louis.  I,  being  still  an  invalid,  had 
been  put  to  bed  in  Mr.  Gratiot 's  beautiful  guest- 
chamber,  and  given  a  hot  posset  that  put  me  to  sleep 
at  once,  though  not  so  soundly  but  that  I  could  dream 
ily  catch  occasional  strains  of  the  fiddles  and  the 
rhythmic  sound  of  feet  on  the  waxed  walnut,  and  many 
voices  and  much  laughter. 

Had  I  been  well,  it  would  have  vexed  me  sore  not  to 
have  been  able  to  lead  in  the  minuet  one  of  the  beau 
ties  of  Cahokia,  whose  fame  had  reached  even  my  dis 
tant  home  in  Philadelphia,  for  I  had  been  carefully 
trained  in  the  steps  and  the  figures,  and  was  young 
enough  to  be  proud  of  my  skill  in  the  dance.  But 
feeling  ill  as  I  did,  the  sounds  of  revelry  combined 
with  the  posset  only  to  soothe  me  into  a  heavy  slum 
ber. 

I  woke  in  the  early  dawn  to  find  Yorke,  Captain 
Clarke's  big  black,  standing  beside  my  bed,  with  a 
bowl  of  smoking  gruel.  He  showed  a  formidable  array 
of  white  ivory  as  he  grinned  amiably  in  response  to 
my  questioning  look: 


I  MAKE  MY  BOW  IN  CAHOKIA  5 

" Mars'  Gratiot  send  you  de  gruel  wid  his  compli- 
men's,  sah,  and  he  and  de  capen  bofe  say  you  Js  not  to 
git  up  dis  mohnen,  sah. ' ' 

Yorke  always  considered  that  to  state  a  request  of 
"de  capen"  was  sufficient  to  insure  compliance.  He 
could  not  dream  of  any  one  setting  his  authority  at 
naught.  With  me,  too,  Captain  Clarke's  authority 
was  paramount.  It  had  only  been  by  a  promise  of  ab 
solute  submission  to  that  authority  that  I  had  per 
suaded  my  kinsman  in  Kentucky  to  allow  me  to  ac 
company  the  captain  on  his  mission  to  the  governor 
of  Illinois  at  St.  Louis. 

So,  when  Yorke  said  the  captain  had  ordered  me  to 
remain  in  bed,  I  thought  for  a  moment  I  would  have 
to  obey;  but  having  swallowed  the  hot  gruel,  into 
which  Yorke  had  put  a  modicum  of  good  Orleans 
ratafia,  I  was  straightway  infused  with  new  spirit  (I 
meant  not  that  for  wit),  and  such  strength  flowed 
through  my  limbs  as  I  had  not  felt  for  days. 

"Yorke,"  I  said,  springing  out  of  bed  with  a  haste 
that  made  me  light-headed  for  a  moment,  "help  me 
into  my  clothes,  and  be  quick  about  it ;  I  think  I  hear 
sounds  below  that  betoken  getting  ready  for  depar 
ture." 

Even  as  I  spoke  I  ran  to  a  stand  on  which  stood  a 
basin  and  a  small  ewer  of  water.  I  filled  the  basin, 
and  plunged  my  head  into  the  icy  water.  I  drew  it 
out,  sputtering  and  shivering,  and,  seizing  a  towel, 
gave  my  head  and  neck  and  hair  so  vigorous  a  rub 
bing  that  I  did  not  see  Yorke  slip  out  of  the  room. 
When  I  turned  to  speak  to  him  I  found  him  gone, 


6  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

afraid  either  of  being  a  partner  in  my  disobedience 
to  the  captain,  or  of  being  left  behind  if  he  delayed 
longer. 

Left  to  myself,  I  did  my  best  to  hurry  with  my 
clothing.  I  had  not  much  experience  in  dressing  my 
self,  but  I  had  been  compelled  to  leave  behind  me  in 
Philadelphia  the  black  boy  who  had  never  before, 
since  I  could  remember,  been  absent  from  me  a  day. 
I  had  Ueen  eager  enough  to  part  with  him,  thinking  it 
ill  befitted  a  soldier  of  fortune,  as  I  intended  to  be,  to 
be  coddled  by  a  valet,  and  I  had  not  missed  him  much, 
for  Yorke  had  been  always  ready  to  lend  a  helping 
hand  when  I  needed  it.  Now  I  was  of  a  mind  to  curse 
the  vanity  that  had  led  me  to  fit  myself  out  with  doe 
skins  that  were  of  so  snug  a  cut  they  needed  much 
tugging  to  get  into  them,  and  with  endless  lacings 
with  which  my  awkward  fingers,  clumsier  than  ever 
from  the  icy  water  and  the  trembling  the  fever  had 
left  me  in,  fumbled  desperately. 

But  I  was  ready  at  last,  and  seizing  my  sword-belt 
in  one  hand  and  my  hat  in  the  other,  I  started  with 
hot  haste  for  the  door,  fearing  I  might  be,  after  all, 
too  late.  As  I  opened  it,  a  sound  smote  my  ears  that 
struck  terror  to  my  heart :  the  voices  and  the  laughter 
of  young  maidens.  I  stepped  back  involuntarily.  I 
had  not  thought  of  the  possibility  of  meeting  any  one 
at  that  early  hour  but  my  host  and  my  captain,  and 
I  had  not  given  a  thought  to  my  appearance.  Now  I 
took  an  anxious  survey  of  myself  in  the  small  French 
mirror  that  hung  above  the  stand.  I  was  vexed  be 
yond  measure  at  what  I  saw. 


I  MAKE  MY  BOW  IN  CAHOKIA  7 

1 1  They  will  take  me  for  a  girl, ' '  I  muttered  between 
my  teeth,  "and  flout  me  accordingly." 

It  had  ever  been  a  source  of  extreme  mortification 
to  me  that  I  should  have  rosy  cheeks  like  any  maiden's, 
but  now,  owing  to  the  hard  scrubbing  I  had  given 
them,  they  were  all  aflame,  and  their  color  was  height 
ened  by  the  pallor  my  recent  illness  had  given  to  brow 
and  temples.  My  hair,  from  its  wetting,  was  curling 
in  ringlets  all  around  my  head.  I  seized  a  brush  and 
tried  desperately  to  reduce  them  to  straightness,  but 
the  brushing  served  only  to  bring  out  in  stronger  re 
lief  the  glint  of  gold  that  I  despised,  and  certainly 
my  eyes  had  never  looked  more  blue  and  shining. 

* '  They  will  think  me  a  girl  or  a  baby ! "  I  muttered 
once  more,  and  was  in  such  disgust  with  myself  I  was 
ready  to  go  back  to  bed.  But  bethinking  me  that 
would  only  leave  me  the  longer  in  this  House  of 
Dames,  I  seized  my  belt  once  more,  buckled  it  on  with 
a  vicious  twitch,  and  strode  boldly  to  the  door. 

There  I  stopped  a  moment  to  collect  all  my  cour 
age,  soothing  myself  with  the  reflection  that  I  stood  a 
good  six  feet  in  my  moccasins,  and  though  I  carried 
no  superfluous  flesh,  my  shoulders  were  as  broad  as 
my  captain's  and  my  muscles  like  whip-cords.  Forti 
fied  by  these  considerations,  I  strode  on  boldly  to  the 
landing  at  the  head  of  the  wide  staircase  leading  down 
to  the  great  hall. 

There  I  stopped  again;  for  while  the  landing  was 
in  gloom,  the  hall  was  brilliantly  illuminated  by  a 
roaring,  blazing  lightwood  fire,  looking  cheery  enough 
in  the  gray  light  of  the  frosty  morning,  and  throw- 


8  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

ing  into  strong  relief  two  groups  on  either  side  of 
the  fireplace.  On  one  side  stood  my  captain,  evi 
dently  ready  for  a  start,  and  making  his  adieus  to  his 
host.  I  glanced  eagerly  at  Mr.  Gratiot  and  at  the  el 
derly  man  who  stood  beside  him,  who,  I  thought,  was 
likely  to  be  none  other  than  Mr.  Francis  Vigo.  I  had 
heard  much  of  these  two  men  from  General  George 
Rogers  Clarke,  whose  lonely  retreat  on  the  Ohio  I  had 
often  visited  during  my  stay  in  Kentucky.  They  had 
been  General  Clarke's  best  friends  and  helpers  in  the 
early  days  of  the  war,  when  he  had  made  that  daring 
attack  on  Vincennes,  and  I  knew  Captain  Clarke's 
mission  to  St.  Louis  had  something  to  do  with  dis 
charging  his  brother's  obligation  to  them.  They  were 
smaller  men  than  my  captain,  of  a  slender,  graceful 
build,  and  the  hair  of  both  was  quite  white,  but  from 
my  post  of  observation  I  could  see  that  they  were  men 
of  courtly  manners,  well  used  to  the  ways  of  the  world, 
and  talking  now  quite  eagerly  with  all  the  wealth  of 
gesture  and  expression  natural  to  Frenchmen. 

The  firelight  played  strongly  on  the  face  of  my  cap 
tain,  whom  I  had  already  begun  to  adore,  as  did  every 
one  who  came  into  close  companionship  with  him.  I 
gazed  admiringly  at  his  broad,  white  brow,  clear-cut 
features,  and  firmly  knit  figure,  a  little  square  of 
build,  but  looking  every  inch  the  frontier  soldier  in 
his  leathern  doublet  and  leggings  and  high-laced  moc 
casins.  Over  one  shoulder  he  had  thrown  his  blue 
military  cloak,  for  the  trip  across  the  river  promised 
to  be  a  cold  one,  and  he  carried  in  his  hand  a  hat  with 
a  drooping  plume.  I  wondered  if  the  merry  group  of 


I  MAKE  MY  BOW  IN  CAHOKIA  9 

girls  on  the  other  side  of  the  fireplace  was  not  im 
pressed  by  such  a  handsome  and  soldierly  stranger, 
and  a  bachelor  to  boot.  I  thought  I  could  detect  an 
occasional  conscious  glance  in  his  direction  and  a  fur 
tive  preening  of  skirts  and  fluttering  of  fans,  that  be 
tokened  they  were  not  insensible  to  the  presence  of 
the  brave  captain. 

There  were  six  of  the  young  maidens,  and  all  but 
two  of  them  were  in  ball  costume ;  flowered  silks,  and 
arms  and  shoulders  gleaming  white  through  fine  lace, 
powdered  hair,  and  patches  and  paint,  they  might 
have  stepped  out  of  a  Philadelphia  ball-room,  I 
thought,  and  was  astonished  at  the  thought.  I  had 
not  expected  to  find  court  beauties  on  the  frontier,  yet 
the  Chouteaus,  the  Gratiots,  and  the  Papins  were 
names  I  had  often  heard  in  my  own  home  as  men  of 
wealth  and  vast  emprise. 

The  six  girls  were  chatting  gaily  in  French,  and 
I  was  so  absorbed  in  my  contemplation  of  them  that 
I  did  not  at  first  consider  the  strangeness  of  their  ap 
pearance  in  that  costume  so  early  in  the  morning. 
When  it  did  occur  to  me,  I  concluded  the  four  must 
have  come  over  from  St.  Louis  to  attend  the  ball  and 
had  no  other  dress  to  return  in,  and  the  other  two 
were,  doubtless  Mr.  Gratiot's  daughters,  which  I 
learned  afterward  was  the  true  explanation. 

But  now  bethinking  me  it  was  high  time  to  make 
my  descent,  and  running  quickly  over  in  my  mind 
the  way  to  make  it  most  effective,— for  I  wished  to 
bear  myself  bravely  before  the  young  maidens,— I  de 
termined  to  place  my  left  hand  on  the  hilt  of  my 


10  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

sword,  to  hold  my  hat,  which  also  bore  a  sweeping 
plume,  in  my  right  hand  pressed  close  to  my  heart, 
and  with  head  held  high  and  borne  a  little  backward, 
to  descend  with  the  stately  minuet  step.  I  flattered 
myself  that  with  such  a  manner  as  I  felt  sure  I  could 
assume  those  saucy  maidens  would  forget  my  rosy 
cheeks  and  my  curls  and  think  only  of  my  air  of 
grand  seigneur. 

I  glanced  down  to  see  that  rny  costume  was  all 
right,  and  now  I  was  glad  that  my  doeskins  fitted  so 
perfectly,  even  if  they  were  hard  to  get  into  in  a 
hurry,  that  my  high  moccasins  were  so  beautifully  and 
elaborately  beaded  in  purple  and  yellow,  with  broad 
slashes  of  fringe  falling  from  the  tops  of  them,  and 
that  my  leathern  doublet  sat  so  well,  as  my  peep  into 
the  mirror  had  convinced  me  it  did. 

As  I  started  down,  feeling  well  satisfied  with  my 
costume,  yet  trembling  inwardly  at  the  thought  of  the 
array  of  bright  eyes  I  was  to  encounter,  my  glance  fell 
on  an  untied  lacing  at  one  knee.  I  stooped  to  retie  it, 
and  at  that  moment  heard  what  seemed  to  me  the 
sweetest  voice  I  had  ever  listened  to,  call : 

"A  moi,  Leon,  a  moi,"  followed  by  a  clear,  soft 
whistle. 

I  was  still  clumsily  fumbling  with  my  lacers  .'(my 
fingers  have  ever  been  all  thumbs  when  there  is  any 
dainty  task  to  be  performed)  when  I  heard  a  rush  of 
soft,  padded  feet,  and  down  the  corridor  behind  me, 
in  response  to  that  clear  whistle,  bounded  a  great 
dog.  Through  the  arch  that  my  bent  limbs  made  in 
stooping  he  saw  the  glow  of  the  firelight  from  below 


I  MAKE  MY  BOW  IN  CAHOKIA  11 

and  made  straight  for  it.  But  alas !  the  arch  was  nar 
rower  than  he  thought,  and  dog  and  man  went  rolling 
and  tumbling  down  the  staircase,  bumping  and  bound 
ing  from  stair  to  stair,  a  wild  melee  of  doeskin  legs 
and  shaggy  paws  and  clanging  sword  and  wildly 
brandished  arms,  making  vain  clutches  at  the  air  to 
stay  the  headlong  descent. 

Deep-mouthed  yelps  voiced  the  terror  of  the  dog  at 
this  unexpected  Sindbad  who  refused  to  be  shaken  off. 
No  words  could  voice  the  overwhelming  shame  of  the 
man  at  this  unmannerly  presentation  of  himself  be 
fore  a  group  of  young  maidens,  when  so  dignified  an 
entrance  had  been  planned. 

As  we  struck  the  polished  walnut  of  the  hall  floor, 
I  disentangled  myself  and  sprang  to  my  feet,  where  I 
stood,  scarlet  with  shame,  head  drooping,  a  pitiable 
object  indeed.  There  had  been  an  amazed,  and  per 
haps  on  the  maidens'  side  a  terrified,  silence  during 
our  noisy  descent.  Now  from  the  maidens  there  arose 
first  a  suppressed  giggle  and  then  an  irresistible  peal 
of  laughter,  joined  to  the  hearty  guffaws  of  the  men. 
My  shame  was  fast  giving  place  to  rising  wrath,  in 
no  degree  appeased  by  the  consciousness  of  the  spec 
tacle  I  presented.  The  dog,  a  magnificent  mastiff,  by 
that  time  recovering  from  his  confusion,  and  feeling 
as  keenly  as  I,  no  doubt,  the  derogation  of  his  dignity, 
and,  with  a  dog's  unreason,  regarding  me  as  the  agent 
of  his  humiliation  when  I  was  in  fact  the  victim  of 
his  own  stupidity,  sprang  at  me  with  a  vicious  growl. 

Here  was  an  occasion  to  vent  my  boiling  wrath. 
Quick  as  thought  my  sword  sprang  from  its  sheath 


12  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

and  came  down  flat-sided  with  a  ringing  blow  on  the 
brute's  head.  I  have  ever  been  a  merciful  man  to  all 
beasts,  and  dogs  and  horses  I  have  loved  and  they 
have  loved  me ;  and  even  in  my  wrath  and  the  quick 
necessity  of  defense  I  remembered  to  use  the  flat 
of  my  sword ;  yet  such  is  the  strength  of  my  sword- 
arm  from  much  practice,  increased,  I  fear,  by  a 
venom  instigated  by  those  silvery  peals  of  laughter, 
that  I  bowled  the  brute  over  as  easily  as  if  he  had  been 
a  ninepin. 

With  a  howl  of  mingled  rage  and  pain  he  recovered 
himself  instantly  and  crouched  to  spring  upon  me 
once  more,  with  such  bloodthirst  in  his  eyes  that  I 
saw  now  I  would  have  to  defend  myself  in  earnest. 
But  as  he  was  almost  in  the  act  of  springing,  from 
among  the  group  of  maidens  there  rushed  what 
seemed  to  my  dazzled  vision  a  small  whirlwind  of 
satins  and  laces  and  velvets  and  jewels,  and  flung 
itself  upon  the  dog  with  a  ringing  cry  of  "A  bas, 
Leon !  tais-toi,  mon  ange ! ' ' 

The  brute  yielded  obedience  at  once  to  the  restrain 
ing  arm  and  tones  of  command,  though  still  regard 
ing  me  with  vicious  eyes  and  uttering  threatening 
growls. 

As  for  me,  I  stood  as  if  turned  to  stone,  still  in  an 
attitude  of  defense,  the  weight  of  my  body  thrown 
forward  on  the  right  foot,  the  hilt  of  my  sword  pressed 
against  my  breast,  the  point  presented  to  receive  the 
onslaught  of  the  brute.  In  that  attitude  I  stood  frozen, 
for  never  had  I  beheld  such  a  vision  of  loveliness. 
The  arm  that  encircled  the  shaggy  neck  of  the  dog 


I  MAKE  MY  BOW  IN  CAHOKIA  13 

was  bare  almost  to  the  shoulder,  the  sleeve  of  finest 
lace  having  fallen  back  in  the  energy  of  her  action, 
and  never  have  I  seen  an  arm  so  white,  so  round,  or 
tapering  so  finely  to  the  slender  wrist  and  exquisite 
little  hand  clutching  a  lock  of  Leon's  mane.  Masses 
of  wavy  dark  hair  were  drawn  loosely  back  from  a 
brow  of  dazzling  whiteness  into  a  cluster  of  soft  curls 
on  top  of  the  head,  where  it  seemed  to  be  caught  by  a 
jeweled  aigret,  which  yet  permitted  tiny  ringlets  to 
escape  about  the  temples  and  the  nape  of  the  snowy 
neck.  She  had  thrown  herself  with  such  abandon  on 
the  dog,  and  was  holding  him  with  such  exertion  of 
strength,  that  the  narrow  skirt  of  her  satin  gown,  flow 
ered  in  palest  pink  and  silver,  revealed  every  line  of 
a  most  exquisite  figure  down  to  the  little  foot  extend 
ing  backward  from  her  skirts  and  showing  the  high 
arch  of  the  instep  in  its  stocking  of  embroidered  silk. 

I  had  gazed  with  impunity,  for  the  drooping  white 
lids  and  the  long,  dark  lashes  sweeping  the  perfect 
curve  of  the  cheek  showed  all  her  looks  were  for  the 
dog,  to  whom  she  incessantly  murmured  in  French 
mingled  words  of  command  and  endearment.  But 
suddenly  she  lifted  her  little  head  and  flung  it 
proudly  back,  with  such  a  blaze  of  indignation  and 
scorn  in  her  dark  eyes  I  felt  withered  under  it.  The 
scarlet  curve  of  her  lips  fell  away  to  disclose  two  rows 
of  pearly  teeth,  close  set,  and  through  them,  with  a 
vicious  snap,  came  the  one  word : 

"Bete!" 

I  could  not  for  a  moment  think  that  the  word  was 
meant  for  the  dog,  and  such  a  rage  slowly  welled  in 


14  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

my  veins  as  restored  TUP  at.  once  to  my  self-command. 
I  dropped  the  point  of  my  sword  to  the  floor  and 
straightened  myself  to  as  proud  a  pose  as  hers. 

' '  I  pray  you  pardon,  Mademoiselle, ' '  I  said  haugh 
tily.  The  words  were  meek  enough,  but  not  the  tone 
nor  the  manner,  and  so  enraged  was  I  that  I  hesitated 
not  a  moment  over  my  French.  My  accent,  I  knew, 
was  good,  for,  my  aunt  having  married  Monsieur 
Barbe  Marbois,  I  was  thrown  much  with  French  peo 
ple;  but  I  had  been  ever  careless  of  my  grammar, 
and  in  a  moment  of  less  excitement  I  might  have  hesi 
tated  in  venturing  on  the  native  tongue  of  so  fair  a 
creature.  But  now  my  French  poured  from  me  in  an 
angry  torrent : 

"I  pray  you  pardon.  Danger  alone  is  my  excuse. 
I  do  not  doubt  a  dog  is  worth  much  more  to  Made 
moiselle  than  the  life  of  an  American  gentleman.  I 
make  you,  Mademoiselle,  my  compliments  and  my  ex 
cuses.  ' ' 

Then  returning  my  sword  to  its  scabbard  with  an 
angry  ring,  I  made  her  a  low  and  sweeping  bow  of 
ironical  courtesy  and  strode  hotly  from  the  room.  I 
was  in  such  a  tumult  of  rage  and  mortification  that 
not  until  I  reached  the  landing  on  the  banks  of  Ca- 
hokia  Creek,  where  the  boats  were  tied  and  the  men 
busily  making  ready  for  the  departure,  did  I  bethink 
me  that  I  had  left  the  house  without  a  word  of  adieus 
or  thanks  to  my  host  for  his  courtesy.  I  began  to  fear 
that  my  sense  of  self-respect  would  compel  my  return, 
and  rather  would  I  have  faced  a  battalion  of  the  Brit 
ish  than  another  flash  from  those  dark  eyes ;  nor  could 
I  hope  to  make  another  so  masterly  a  retreat  as  I 


I  MAKE  MY  BOW  IN  CAHOKIA  15 

plumed  myself  this  one  had  been.  But  as  I  glanced 
back  toward  the  house  on  the  bluffs  that  had  proved 
my  undoing,  to  iriy  intense  relief  I  saw  that  the  three 
gentlemen  had  followed  not  far  behind  me  and  were 
even  now  descending  the  pathway  to  the  creek.  I  has 
tened  to  meet  them  and  make  my  apologies. 

A  more  courteous  gentleman  than  Mr.  Gratiot  I 
never  met.  He  spoke  very  good  English  indeed,  his 
accent  I  believe  not  so  good  as  my  French  one,  but  his 
grammar  much  better. 

"My  dear  young  gentleman,  you  acquitted  yourself 
nobly, ' '  he  was  kind  enough  to  say.  * '  In  the  eyes  of 
the  young  ladies,  if  I  may  possibly  except  Mademoi 
selle  Pelagic,  you  are  a  hero.  But  they  are  much  cha 
grined  that  you  should  have  left  them  without  giving 
them  a  chance  to  express  their  sympathy  or  their  ad 
miration.  ' ' 

The  sound  of  those  silvery  peals  of  laughter  was 
too  vividly  in  my  remembrance  to  permit  me  to  accept 
Mr.  Gratiot 's  compliments  without  a  large  grain  of  al 
lowance  for  a  Frenchman's  courtesy,  but  I  bowed  low 
in  seeming  to  accept  them.  Then  he  introduced  me 
to  his  companion,  who  proved  not  to  be  Mr.  Vigo  after 
all,  but  Dr.  Saugrain,  the  French  emigre  so  renowned 
for  his  learning.  I  looked  at  him  keenly  as  I  made  my 
bow,  for  I  had  heard  something  of  him  in  Philadel 
phia,  and  in  Kentucky  there  had  been  so  many  tales  of 
the  wonderful  things  he  could  do  that  I  think  most 
people  looked  upon  him  as  a  dealer  in  black  arts.  But 
he  was  in  no  respect  my  idea  of  a  Mephisto.  He  was 
small  and  wiry  of  build,  and  dressed  in  black  small 
clothes,  with  ruffles  of  finest  lace  at  wrist  and  knee. 


16  THE  ROSE  OF   OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Black  silk  stockings  showed  a  well-turned  calf  in  no 
whit  shrunken  with  age,  and  his  silver  shoe-buckles 
glittered  with  brilliants.  His  hair,  iron-gray  and 
curly,  was  tied  in  a  short  queue  with  a  black  satin  rib 
bon,  and  beneath  a  rather  narrow  and  high  brow 
beamed  two  as  kindly  blue  eyes  as  it  had  ever  been  my 
lot  to  meet. 

His  greeting  was  most  cordial,  though  there  was  a 
merry  twinkle  in  his  eye  while  speaking  to  me  that 
made  me  feel  he  might  still  be  laughing  inwardly  at 
my  ridiculous  descent  of  Mr.  Gratiot's  staircase. 
With  a  very  grand  manner  indeed,  and  with  much  use 
of  his  hands,  as  is  the  fashion  of  Frenchmen,  he  said : 

"My  dear  sir,  it  mek  me  mos'  proud  and  mos' 
'appy  to  know  you.  Vous  etes  veritablement  un  brave. 
Le  capitaine  dine  chez  moi  to-day;  I  s'all  be  desole 
and  inconsolable  if  he  bring  not  also  his  ver'  dear 
young  frien'."  Then,  with  a  sudden  and  entire 
change  of  manner,  he  laid  his  finger  beside  his  nose 
and  said  in  a  loud  whisper : 

''My  frien',  I  would  not  min'  you  kill  that  dogr 
moi !  I  lof e  'im  not. ' ' 

But  while  his  words  did  not  sound  kind  to  me,  who 
am  such  a  lover  of  dogs  that  nothing  but  the  necessity 
of  self-defense  would  ever  make  me  lift  a  hand 
against  one,  yet,  all  the  time  he  spoke,  his  eyes  twin 
kled  more  merrily  than  ever,  and  I  wondered  at  the 
man  whose  manner  could  change  so  quickly  from  the 
grand  seigneur's  to  that  of  a  king's  jester,  and  I  puz 
zled  my  brains  mightily  to  know  what  his  connection 
with  the  dog  could  be. 


CHAPTER  II 

I  PROPOSE   A   TOAST 
"The  rose  that  all  are  praising." 

'  AND  this  is  the  village  of  St.  Louis,  sir  ?" 
JLJL  My  discomfiture,  my  mortification,  my  rage, 
the  vision  of  dainty  beauty,  the  strange  little  savant— 
every  remembrance  of  my  brief  visit  to  Cahokia  had 
been  swept  away  by  the  rushing  waters  of  the  great 
river  of  which  I  had  read  and  heard  so  much. 

My  brain  was  teeming  with  tales  of  the  Spanish  ad 
venturer  De  Soto ;  of  the  French  trader  Joliet ;  of  the 
devoted  and  saintly  Jesuit,  beloved  of  the  Indians, 
Pere  Marquette;  and  of  the  bold  Norman  La  Salle, 
who  hated  and  feared  all  Jesuits.  I  saw  the  river 
through  a  veil  of  romance  that  gilded  its  turbid  wa 
ters,  but  it  was  something  far  other  than  its  romantic 
past  that  set  my  pulses  to  beating,  and  the  blood  rush 
ing  through  my  veins  so  that  I  hardly  heard  my  cap 
tain's  answer,  and  hardly  knew  what  I  replied  to  him. 

Through  the  months  of  my  sojourn  in  Kentucky 

there  had  been  one  all-absorbing  theme — the  closing 

of  the  Mississippi  to  American  boats  by  the  Spanish, 

and  their  refusal  to  grant  us  a  right  of  deposit  on  the 

2  17 


18  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Isle  of  New  Orleans.  Feeling  had  run  so  high  that 
there  were  muttered  threats  against  the  government 
at  Washington. 

There  were  two  factions,  each  acting  secretly  and 
each  numbering  thousands.  One  was  for  setting  off 
at  once  down  the  river  to  capture  New  Orleans  and 
take  exclusive  possession  of  both  sides  of  the  river; 
and  if  the  government  at  Washington  would  not  help 
them,  or,  still  worse,  forbade  them  the  emprise,  they 
would  set  up  an  independent  government  of  the  West. 
The  other  faction,  inspired  by  secret  agents  of  the 
Spanish  government,  was  for  floating  the  Spanish 
flag  and  proclaiming  themselves  subjects  of  Charles 
of  Aragon.  Spam's  secret  emissaries  were  eloquent 
of  the  neglect  of  the  home  government  in  the  East, 
and  its  powerlessness  to  help  the  Westerners  if  it 
would,  and  it  was  said  they  clenched  their  arguments 
with  chink  of  Spanish  gold.  Treason  and  patriotism, 
a  wild  indignation  at  wrongs  unredressed,  and  a 
wilder  enthusiasm  for  conquest  sent  the  blood  of 
Kentucky  to  fever-heat.  Passions  were  inflamed 
until  it  needed  but  a  spark  from  a  tinder  to  set  them 
ablaze. 

With  me,  friend  and  distant  kinsman  of  the 
Clarkes,  there  was  no  possibility  of  being  touched  by 
the  taint  of  treason.  But  while  it  would  be  treason  of 
the  blackest  dye,  and  most  abhorrent  to  my  soul,  to 
submit  to  Spain's  rule,  to  my  young  blood  there  could 
be  no  treason  in  compelling  Spain  at  the  point  of  the 
sword  to  submit  to  our  demands.  I  was  all  for  war, 
and  when  the  cooler  judgment  of  General  Clarke  and 


I  PROPOSE  A  TOAST  19 

his  brother,  my  captain,  prevailed  to  calm  for  a  time 
the  wild  tumult  of  war,  I  was  bitterly  disappointed. 

Now  for  the  first  time  I  was  beholding  the  river  that 
had  aroused  the  mighty  tempest  in  Kentucky,  and  it 
was  not  the  tales  of  De  Soto  and  La  Salle,  of  Joliet 
and  Pere  Marquette,  that  sent  the  blood  rushing 
through  my  veins,  but  the  thought  that  this  was  the 
mighty  river  forbidden  to  our  commerce,  that  the 
swirling  brown  water  at  my  feet  was  rushing  down  to 
the  Spanish  city  on  the  Gulf,  and  I  longed  to  be  one 
of  an  army  rushing  with  it  to  secure  our  natural  and 
inalienable  rights  by  conquest. 

I  knew  that  Captain  Clarke  was  visiting  St.  Louis 
to  make  some  arrangements  for  his  brother's  debts- 
debts  incurred  principally  to  Mr.  Gratiot  and  Mr. 
Vigo  for  no  benefit  to  himself,  but  in  rescuing  and 
protecting  the  people  of  Illinois  from  the  Indians  and 
the  British;  debts  belonging  of  right  to  the  govern 
ment,  but  repudiated  by  it,  and  left  to  be  borne  by  the 
noble  man  who,  almost  alone,  by  a  heroism  and  genius 
for  war  unparalleled  had  saved  all  that  Western  coun 
try  to  the  Union. 

I  knew  this  was  my  captain's  errand,  yet  I  hoped 
there  might  be  some  touching  on  the  question  of  the 
river  navigation  with  the  Spanish  governor  of  St. 
Louis,  and  I  had  visions  of  returning  to  Kentucky 
and,  amid  the  acclaims  of  our  fellow-citizens,  announ 
cing  that  Captain  Clarke,  assisted  by  his  young  kins 
man,  had  succeeded  in  convincing  the  Spanish  gov 
ernor  Delassus  of  the  wrongs  inflicted  upon  American 
commerce  by  the  unjust  interdiction;  that  Delassus 


20  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

had  thereupon  remonstrated  with  the  intendant  at 
New  Orleans,  and,  as  a  result,  the  river  was  thrown 
open  to  the  Gulf,  and  a  port  of  deposit  granted  on  the 
Isle  of  New  Orleans  where  our  merchants  might  store 
the  goods  they  brought  down  the  river  for  sale. 

It  was  because  my  brain  was  teeming  with  such 
sweet  dreams  of  glory  that  I  answered  my  captain  so 
absent-mindedly  and  so  little  to  the  point.  It  was  still 
so  early  that  the  low  morning  sun  at  our  backs  had 
just  begun  to  gild  the  bluffs  before  us.  We  could  not 
have  had  a  finer  first  view  of  the  Spanish  town  of 
which  we  had  heard  so  much.  High  and  dry  on  its 
limestone  bluffs,  where  no  floods  for  which  the  great 
river  is  so  famous  could  ever  reach  it,  it  extended  in  a 
straggling  line  for  a  mile  and  a  half.  Its  dwellings, 
some  of  them  of  imposing  size,  were  embowered  in 
trees,  and,  at  that  distance,  seemed  to  stand  in  the 
midst  of  large  gardens.  Behind  the  village  rose  an 
other  hill,  on  the  summit  of  which  stood  a  fort,  and 
from  the  fort,  in  either  direction,  palisades  curved 
around  the  town,  interrupted  at  intervals  by  demi 
lunes,  and  terminating  at  the  bluffs  in  stone  towers. 
Behind  this  second  terrace  the  land  continued  to  rise 
in  a  succession  of  terraces,  covered  partly  with  low 
bushes  and  shrubs  and  partly  with  high,  waving 
woods,  giving  an  impression  of  indescribable  richness 
to  the  landscape,  every  detail  of  which  the  level  rays 
of  the  bright  morning  sun  brought  out  in  strong  re 
lief.  The  whole  made  a  most  impressive  appearance, 
more  like  the  picture  of  walled  towns  on  the  Rhine 
than  like  anything  I  had  seen  in  our  country. 


I  PROPOSE  A  TOAST  21 

We  were  now  so  far  out  in  the  stream  that  the  men 
could  no  longer  use  their  poles,  and  were  trusting  to 
the  great  sail  they  had  spread  to  catch  a  stiff  south 
eastern  breeze,  assisted  by  vigorous  strokes  of  their 
paddles,  and  I  could  see  that  against  the  swift  current 
they  were  straining  every  nerve  and  yet  were  steadily 
being  borne  below  the  village  and  the  landing-place. 

Paddling  on  the  Schuylkill  and  the  Delaware  was 
ever  a  favorite  pastime  with  me,  and  I  doubt  not  I  was 
a  little  proud  of  my  skill.  Forgetting  my  recent  illness 
and  the  weak  state  it  had  left  me  in,  I  seized  the  pad 
dle  from  a  young  fellow  who  seemed  to  me  well-nigh 
giving  over,  and  unceremoniously  tumbled  him  out  of 
his  seat  into  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  while  I  took  his 
place.  To  my  astonishment,  I  found  this  was  an  en 
tirely  different  stream  from  the  steadily  flowing  rivers 
of  the  East.  My  paddle  was  like  to  be  snatched  from 
my  hand  at  the  first  dip  into  the  powerful  current, 
and  though  I  saved  it  by  a  mad  and  desperate  clutch, 
yet  it  felt  like  a  feather  in  my  hands,  and  I  saw  my 
captain  (who  had  witnessed  my  peremptory  usurpa 
tion  of  the  paddle)  trying  to  suppress  a  sly  smile, 
while  my  mortified  ears  caught  the  sound  of  derisive 
snickers  behind  me,  and  Yorke,  the  impudent  black, 
grinned  openly  from  ear  to  ear. 

The  worst  of  it  was,  I  myself  could  see  we  were 
losing  ground  more  rapidly  than  before.  Now,  I  had 
ever  a  horror  of  owning  myself  beaten  (unless  it  were 
in  argument,  for  I  have  no  skill  with  words) .  I  would 
fight  to  the  last  gasp,  but  I  would  never  surrender, 
which  is  sometimes  a  foolish  way,  but  more  often  wins 


22  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

victory  out  of  defeat.  With  my  captain  looking  on,  1 
felt  that  defeat  even  in  so  small  a  matter  would  be  a 
disgrace  I  could  never  survive.  And  so,  admonishing 
myself  to  keep  cool,  and  remembering  a  turn  of  the 
wrist  that  an  old  Indian  had  taught  me  in  Pennsyl 
vania,  I  very  soon  caught  the  trick  of  the  blade  and 
found  myself  holding  my  own.  Hope  returned,  and 
I  gradually  put  forth  more  and  more  strength,  until, 
to  my  great  satisfaction,  I  at  last  saw  that  we  were  no 
longer  drifting  down-stream,  but  steadily  making 
head  against  the  current,  with  fair  promise  of  reach 
ing  our  landing-place.  Then,  indeed,  did  I  feel  ex 
ultant,  and  such  courage  leaped  through  my  veins, 
and  so  swift  and  sure  and  strong  were  my  strokes,  that 
I  felt  I  could  alone,  with  my  single  arm,  bring  the 
great  boat  to  harbor.  But  for  the  second  time  that 
morning  was  my  vanity  my  undoing.  We  did  indeed 
make  the  landing,  where  a  great  concourse  of  people 
had  gathered  to  meet  us,  among  them  a  stately  Span 
ish  don  (who,  I  had  no  doubt,  was  the  governor)  sur 
rounded  by  a  retinue  of  officers ;  but  as  the  keel  of  our 
boat  grounded  in  the  soft  mud  and  my  captain  called 
me  to  come  with  him  to  meet  the  governor,  and  I  arose 
in  my  place  to  obey  him,  suddenly  a  great  blackness 
and  dizziness  seized  me,  and  I  knew  no  more  until  I 
opened  my  eyes  to  find  myself  being  borne,  on  the 
shoulders  of  four  men,  up  the  steep  bluff  toward  the 
village  street.  I  insisted  in  the  most  forcible  terms  on 
being  put  upon  my  feet  at  once,  but  as  I  spoke  in  Eng 
lish,  and  the  soldiers  were  either  Spanish  or  Creole 
French,  my  entreaties  and  imprecations  were  lost 


I  PROPOSE  A  TOAST  23 

upon  them.  Nor  did  my  kicking  and  pushing  avail 
me  any  better ;  they  but  held  me  the  more  firmly  for 
my  struggles.  Then  I  called  out  lustily  for  help,  and 
the  ever-ready  Yorke  (but  with  the  grin  that  I  had 
learned  at  times  to  consider  detestable)  ran  to  my  aid. 

"Yorke!"  I  shouted  to  him;  "make  the  rascals  put 
me  down  this  minute,  and  do  you,  sir,  shut  that  dom- 
tiferous  mouth  of  yours.  I  warn  you,  sir,  you  grin  at 
your  peril ! ' ' 

My  mother  had  ever  a  horror  of  the  oaths  with  which 
gentlemen  lard  their  conversation,  and  because  I  loved 
and  honored  her  greatly,  I  had  resolved  that  I  would 
never,  to  use  her  words,  "sully  my  mouth"  with  one. 
But  often  feeling  the  need  of  some  more  emphatic  ex 
pressions  than  our  language  provides  except  in  the 
form  of  oaths,  I  had  coined  for  myself  a  small  vocabu 
lary  to  be  used  on  occasions  requiring  great  emphasis. 
Since  these  words  all  began  with  a  d,  I  had  the  satis 
faction  of  feeling  that  I  was  sufficiently  emphatic 
without  violating  the  respect  due  my  mother. 

Whether  it  was  the  strangeness  of  the  form  of  my 
imprecations  or  the  length  of  my  adjective  that  scared 
Yorke,  certain  it  is  that  he  was  sobered  at  once,  and 
with  the  solemnity  of  the  Spanish  don  himself  he  soon 
made  the  soldiers  understand  that  they  must  put  me 
down.  Once  on  my  own  feet,  though  I  still  felt  a  little 
shaky,  I  was  able,  by  availing  myself  of  Yorke 's  arm, 
to  climb  the  steep  path  leading  up  the  bluff,  and  soon 
found  myself  in  the  main  street  of  the  village,  which 
the  habitans  called  the  Kue  Royale. 

We  had  come  out  into  a  large  square  or  market- 


24  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

place,  filled  with  the  throng  of  people  I  had  seen  at 
the  landing  and  many  more,  so  that,  as  the  people 
surged  backward  and  forward  to  get  a  nearer  view,  the 
whole  open  space  looked  like  a  great  posy-bed  of  many- 
hued  flowers  waving  in  a  summer  breeze.  And  if 
St.  Louis  had  had  a  foreign  look  to  me  when  viewed 
from  a  distance,  still  more  did  I  feel  as  if  I  were  in  a 
strange  town  in  a  strange  land  as  I  heard  the  babble 
of  strange  tongues  about  me  and  saw  the  picturesque 
costumes  of  the  habitans,  so  unlike  anything  I  had 
•ever  seen  in  Philadelphia  or  Kentucky.  Negroes  were 
chattering  their  queer  Creole  patois,  and  Indians  of 
many  nations  were  gathered  into  groups,  some  of  them 
bedizened  with  the  cheap  finery  of  the  stores,  some  of 
them  wearing  only  bright-hued  blankets,  but  with 
wonderful  head-dresses  of  eagle  feathers,  and  all  of 
them  looking  gravely  on  with  a  curiosity  as  silent  as 
that  of  the  habitans  was  noisy  and  babbling.  The 
presence  of  so  many  Indians  and  on  such  friendly 
terms  struck  me  as  strange,  for  in  Kentucky  there 
were  no  such  friendly  relations  between  Indians  and 
whites,  and  the  presence  of  so  many  of  them  would 
have  betokened  danger  and  caused  much  uneasiness. 
It  thrilled  me  much  that  our  coming  should  have 
made  so  great  excitement  in  the  village,  and  doubtless 
my  vanity  would  have  taken  fire  again  if  I  had  not 
known  that  it  was  my  captain  these  people  had  come 
to  see,  and  not  myself,  of  whom  they  had  never 
heard.  Even  my  captain  I  knew  must  shine  in  a 
reflected  glory,  as  the  brother  of  General  George 
Rogers  Clarke,  whom  the  people  of  St.  Louis  wor- 


I  PROPOSE  A  TOAST  25 

shiped  as  their  savior  in  the  affair  of  1780,  when 
the  Osages  surprised  the  men  at  work  in  the  fields, 
and  whom  all  the  Indians  of  Illinois  regarded  with 
fear  and  reverence  as  the  great  ' '  Captain  of  the  Long 
Knives. ' '  Yet  I  could  see  that  many  of  their  curious 
glanees  fell  on  me  also,  and  I  let  go  of  Yorke's  arm 
and  walked  steadily  with  my  head  in  the  air,  as  be 
fitted  the  friend  of  Captain  Clarke. 

"We  had  stopped  in  front  of  a  large  stone  building 
set  inside  a  walled  inclosure.  My  captain,  who  was* 
in  advance  with  the  governor  and  his  party,  as  he 
entered  the  inclosure  turned  and  beckoned  to  Yorke 
and  me  to  follow  him.  The  throng  parted  to  let  us 
through,  and  as  we  entered  the  gates  I  saw  that  the 
governor  had  stopped  on  the  wide  gallery  that  ran 
round  the  four  sides  of  the  building,  and  with  a 
stately  flourish  was  bidding  my  captain  welcome  to 
Government  House. 

With  Yorke  close  at  my  footsteps,  I  followed  the 
governor's  party  through  a  wide  door  into  a  great 
room  that  extended  through  the  house  (as  I  could  see 
by  the  open  doors  and  windows  at  the  rear) ,  and  that 
was  almost  as  wide  as  it  was  long,  with  doors  opening 
into  rooms  on  both  sides.  Here  I  was  presented  to 
Governor  Delassus,  who  received  me  cordially,  and 
who,  with  his  dark  eyes  and  punctilious  manners,  was 
my  idea  of  a  Spanish  don. 

On  either  side  of  him  stood  two  men  who  also 
greeted  me  cordially,  but  without  the  punctiliousness 
of  the  Spaniard.  They  were  the  two  Chouteaus,  Au- 
guste  and  Jean  Pierre.  I  had  heard  much  of  them, 


26  THE  ROSE  OF   OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

both  in  Philadelphia  and  in  Kentucky,  and  I  found 
it  difficult  to  conceal  the  curiosity  with  which  I  re 
garded  them.  I  had  expected  to  find  two  rough  fron 
tiersmen,  somewhat  after  the  manner  of  Daniel  Boone 
or  Simon  Kenyon,  both  of  whom  I  had  seen  at  Gen 
eral  Clarke's;  but  they  were  very  far  from  that.  Au- 
guste,  the  elder,  and  who,  almost  more  than  his  step 
father,  Laclede,  was  the  founder  of  St.  Louis,  was  the 
graver  of  the  two,  with  keen,  shrewd  eyes  that  be 
tokened  the  successful  man  of  business.  Pierre  (as 
everybody  called  the  younger)  looked  not  at  all  like 
his  brother:  taller  and  slenderer  of  build,  his  flash 
ing  dark  eyes  and  gay  manners  must  have  been  in 
herited  from  his  father,  Laclede,  for  Madame  Chou- 
teau  (whom  I  came  to  know  very  well  later)  was  even 
graver  and  sterner  in  manner  than  her  eldest  son, 
Auguste. 

But  interested  as  I  was  in  meeting  these  men, — and 
there  were  many  others  of  whom  I  had  heard,  Man 
uel  Lisa,  Gabriel  Cerre,  Francis  Vigo,  and  Josef 
Marie  Pap  in,  —  I  could  not  resist  casting  many  a  fur 
tive  glance  toward  a  table  set  in  the  rear  of  the  great 
room.  My  bowl  of  gruel  in  the  early  morning  had 
satisfied  me  at  the  time,  but  I  was  still  weak  from 
illness  and  much  fasting,  and  my  hard  pull  at  the 
paddles  had  left  me  famished  indeed.  It  was  now, 
I  was  quite  sure  by  the  sun  and  the  shadows,  nearly 
eleven  o'clock,  and  I  began  to  feel  the  dizziness  once 
more,  and  to  be  seized  with  a  terrible  fear  that  I 
should  again  be  overcome.  It  was  with  a  great  joy, 
therefore,  that  I  began  to  observe  black  servants 


I  PROPOSE  A  TOAST  27 

bringing  in  smoking  viands  and  arranging  them  upon 
the  table,  and  no  words  ever  sounded  more  pleasant 
in  my  ears  than  the  governor's  invitation  to  break 
fast. 

As  we  were  about  to  sit  down,  my  captain  on  the 
governor 's  right,  and  I  very  kindly  placed  on  his  left, 
with  Mr.  Pierre  Chouteau  beside  me,  there  was  a  noise 
at  the  door,  and  Mr.  Gratiot  and  Dr.  Saugrain  en 
tered.  They  were  welcomed  in  such  fashion  it  was 
easy  to  see  they  were  both  prime  favorites  in  that 
society.  In  response  to  my  captain's  inquiries,  they 
said  they  had  left  Cahokia  very  shortly  after  us, 
bringing  the  young  ladies  over  in  two  small  boats, 
and  the  boats  being  light  and  easily  handled,  they  had 
nearly  overtaken  us. 

At  the  mention  of  the  young  ladies  I  felt  myself 
flush  painfully,  and  I  almost  thought  the  little  doc 
tor  regarded  me  with  a  wicked  twinkle  in  his  eyes. 
But  I  was  not  sure,  and  I  resolutely  put  the  thought 
of  them  out  of  my  mind,  while  I  devoted  myself  to  the 
more  serious  matters  of  the  table. 

And,  indeed,  seldom  has  it  been  my  lot  to  sit  down 
to  a  more  delicious  meal.  It  was  my  first  taste  of 
French  cookery,  and  I  proved  then,  what  I  had  often 
heard,  that  the  French  have  a  talent  for  savors  and 
seasonings,  and  for  dainty  service,  denied  to  us  Anglo- 
Saxons.  It  may  be,  also,  that  my  long  fasting  (for 
my  light  breakfast  had  hardly  broken  my  fast)  added 
a  sauce  to  the  viands  more  potent  than  any  French 
man's  skill,  for  my  appetite  had  come  back  with  a 
rush,  and  for  the  first  time  in  many  days  I  ate  like 


28  THE  ROSE  OF   OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

a  well  man,  and  a  very  hungry  one.  So  well,  for 
sooth,  did  I  ply  my  knife  and  fork  that  Pierre  Chou- 
teau  could  not  forbear  congratulating  me,  in  his 
polished  French  manner,  on  my  prowess  as  a  trench 
erman  ;  at  which  I  had  the  grace  to  blush. 

And  now,  having  taken  the  edge  off  my  hunger,  I 
had  leisure  to  enjoy  the  swift  exchange  of  wit  and 
repartee  flashing  back  and  forth  across  the  table  in 
mixed  English,  French,  and  Spanish.  There  had  been 
many  toasts,  most  courteously  worded  and  delicately 
drunk,  for  I  noticed  these  Frenchmen  were  not  deep 
drinkers,  and  did  not  feel  it  necessary  to  drain  their 
glasses  at  every  toast,  as  is  the  manner  in  Kentucky. 
My  captain's  health  had  been  drunk  and  he  had  re 
sponded  with  the  governor's  (nor  did  our  polite  hosts 
forget  to  honor  me),  and  the  gaiety  began  to  grow 
somewhat  noisy,  when  a  youngster,  who  had,  no  doubt, 
been  drinking  a  little  more  than  was  good  for  him, 
sprang  to  his  feet.  Waving  his  goblet  toward  Yorke 
(who  stood  behind  Captain  Clarke's  chair  grinning 
delightedly  at  every  flash  of  wit,  whether  he  under 
stood  it  or  not),  he  called  out: 

"  I  drink  to  the  health  of  Monsieur  Yorke,  gentle 
men,  tallest  and  most  smiling  of  sable  Mercurys.  May 
his  inches  never  be  fewer  nor  his  smiles  grow  less. ' ' 

I  saw  my  captain  frown,  and  Yorke,  who  did  not 
understand  one  word  that  was  said,  since  it  was  all 
in  French,  easily  understood  the  gesture  toward  him, 
and  the  hesitating  glances  in  his  direction,  and  the 
half-lifted  glasses  as  their  owners  were  in  doubt 
whether  the  toast  was  to  be  taken  in  jest  or  earnest. 


I  PROPOSE  A  TOAST  29 

His  eyes  rolled  in  terror  from  the  proposer  of  the 
toast  to  Captain  Clarke,  and  back  again.  I  knew  my 
captain  would  never  brook  the  indignity  of  having' 
his  health  drunk  at  the  same  table  and  by  the  same 
people  who  afterward  drank  his  slave's,  and  fearing 
an  awkward  contretemps,  I  sprang  to  my  feet  to  avert 
it.  I  lifted  my  glass  high  as  I  cried: 

1  i  Listen  to  me,  messieurs !  Is  there  no  fair  lady  to 
whose  honor  your  young  men  would  drink?  For 
never  could  we  drink  to  the  ladies  after  drinking  to  a 
negro  and  a  slave.  I  give  you,  messieurs,  the  fairest 
lady  in  St.  Louis!  " 

As  I  said  it,  for  one  fleeting  moment  I  had  a  vision 
of  a  round  white  arm  bare  to  the  shoulder,  a  slender 
hand  grasping  a  tawny  mane,  and  black  eyes  flash 
ing  with  scorn.  Perhaps  it  was  due  to  that  vision 
that  my  voice  had  a  ring  in  it  that  brought  every  man 
to  his  feet,  and  as  glasses  clinked,  each  man  drank 
to  the  lady  of  his  love  with  a  rousing  cheer. 

As  we  brought  our  glasses  to  the  table,  rims  down, 
the  young  man  who  had  proposed  Yorke's  health 
said,  with  a  bow  of  apology  to  me : 

"I  accept  my  rebuke,  and  if  the  gentleman  permit 
I  would  like  to  repeat  his  toast:  To  the  fairest  lady 
in  St.  Louis— Dr.  Saugrain's  ward!" 

"Fill  up  your  glasses,  gentlemen,  drain  them  to 
the  lees,  and  throw  them  over  your  shoulders ;  't  is  a 
worthy  toast,"  cried  the  governor;  and,  filling  his  to 
the  brim,  and  draining  it  at  one  draught,  he  flung  it 
over  his  shoulder— an  example  which  the  others, 
benedict  and  bachelor,  followed  with  ardor.  In  the 


30  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

midst  of  the  crashing  of  glass,  I  thought  I  caught  Dr. 
Saugrain's  and  Mr.  Gratiot's  eyes  fixed  curiously  on 
me.  I  turned  to  Mr.  Pierre  Chouteau : 

11  Dr.  Saugrain's  ward  must  be  fair  indeed,  to 
rouse  such  enthusiasm,"  I  said. 

"Vraiment,"  returned  Pierre,  "she  is  the  Rose  of 
St.  Louis.  But  you  dine  with  Dr.  Saugrain  to-day: 
you  will  see,  and  then  you  will  know.  Young  Josef 
Papin  yonder,  who  proposed  the  toast,  is  wild  about 
her.  And  so  are  half  the  young  men  of  the  village." 

"Vraiment,"  I  murmured  to  myself,  "if  she  is 
fairer  than  the  scornful  Mademoiselle  Pelagie,  she 
is  fair  indeed  !  ' ' 

And  yet  I  found  myself  looking  forward  to  Dr. 
Saugrain's  dinner  with  suppressed  excitement,  while 
I  puzzled  my  brains  to  interpret  his  and  Mr.  Gra 
tiot's  enigmatical  glances  in  my  direction. 


CHAPTER  III 

I   MEET   AN   OLD   ACQUAINTANCE 

"  I  am  his  Highnesses  dog  at  Kew ; 
Pray  tell  me,  sir,  whose  dog  are  you?" 

c'  ALLONS!"  said  Mr.  Pierre  Chouteau,  "I  will  show 
JLlL  you  the  village.  There  are  yet  two  hours  before 
Dr.  Saugrain 's  dinner-hour  arrives. ' ' 

We  were  standing  on  the  wide  gallery  of  Govern 
ment  House,  looking  up  the  Rue  de  la  Tour  to  the 
"Fort  on  the  Hill"  with  its  massive  round  towers  of 
stone  and  high  stockade.  We  had  made  our  adieus  to 
Governor  Delassus,  and  we  were  quite  ready  to  ac 
cept  Mr.  Chouteau  '&  invitation.  Mr.  Gratiot  and  Mr. 
Auguste  Chouteau  excused  themselves  from  accom 
panying  us  on  the  ground  of  pressing  business,  but 
Mr.  Auguste  Chouteau  said  he  hoped  soon  to  see  us 
at  his  own  house,  and  Mr.  Gratiot  promised  to  meet 
us  at  dinner  at  Dr.  Saugrain 's. 

So  it  was  only  four  of  us  who  set  out  (or  five,  if 
you  count  the  black  as  one),  Mr.  Chouteau  and  my 
captain  leading,  Dr.  Saugrain  and  I  following,  with 
Yorke  trailing  in  the  rear;  for  Captain  Clarke  did 
not  dare  leave  that  ingenious  black  to  his  own  de 
vices,  being  well  assured  that  it  would  certainly  result 
in  disaster  to  himself  or  to  some  of  the  habitans. 

31 


32  THE  ROSE  OF   OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

Diagonally  across  the  street,  at  the  corner  of  the 
Rue  de  la  Tour  and  the  Rue  Royale,  was  a  large  gar 
den,  shut  in  by  solid  stone  walls  higher  than  a  man's 
head.  Over  the  top  of  the  walls  fell  branches  of  fruit- 
trees,  and  grape-vines  still  with  a  few  clusters  of  late 
grapes  hanging  from  them.  Beyond  were  the  tops 
of  lofty  shade-trees,  and  between  the  branches,  where 
the  foliage  was  rapidly  thinning,  we  could  catch 
glimpses  of  the  stone  chimneys  and  dormer-windows 
of  a  great  house. 

We  turned  into  the  Rue  Royale  and  walked  by  the 
stone  wall  stretching  north  a  long  distance.  The 
morning  had  been  frosty,  but  the  noon  sun  was  hot, 
and  we  were  glad  to  shelter  ourselves  under  the  over 
hanging  boughs.  It  was  Auguste  Chouteau's  place, 
but  Pierre  said  he  would  let  his  brother  have  the 
pleasure  of  showing  it  to  us;  and  we  were  about  to 
pass  the  wide  entrance-gate  half-way  down  the  long 
wall  when  we  were  stopped  by  a  strange  procession. 
Out  of  the  gate  filed  slowly,  solemnly,  one  at  a  time, 
a  long  line  of  fantastically  dressed  Indians.  The  two 
in  front  were  attired  alike  in  shabby  old  United  States 
uniforms,  with  gold  epaulets  much  tarnished  and 
worn,  dilapidated  gold  lace  on  collars  and  sleeves, 
and  wearing  on  their  heads  military  hats  with  long 
draggled  plumes.  From  thigh  to  the  low  moccasins 
their  legs  were  entirely  unclothed,  and  a  more  ludi 
crous  combination  than  the  civilized  coats  and  the 
bare  brown  legs  I  had  never  seen.  The  two  in  military 
coats  were  evidently  chiefs,  and  were  followed  by  a 
long  line  of  braves  sweltering  under  heavy  Mackinac 


I  MEET  AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE  33 

blankets,  each  armed  with  a  scarlet  umbrella  in 
one  hand  and  a  palm-leaf  fan  in  the  other,  to  pro 
tect  them  from  the  sun.  Apparently  they  did  not 
glance  in  our  direction,  but  each  one  as  he  passed  Mr. 
Chouteau  saluted  him  with  a  guttural  "Ugh!"  to 
which  Mr.  Chouteau  responded  in  the  most  military 
fashion. 

"They  are  on  their  way  to  my  place,  and  we 
will  let  them  get  well  ahead  of  us,"  Mr.  Chouteau 
said,  as  the  last  brave  passed  us.  "  It  would  hardly 
be  dignified  to  be  trailing  in  their  rear ;  we  will  step 
into  my  brother's  garden  for  a  moment  and  give  them 
time  to  get  out  of  our  way. ' ' 

The  massive  gates,  which,  I  saw,  could  be  heavily 
bolted  and  barred,  stood  open,  and  we  passed  through 
into  a  park-like  inclosure,  beautifully  laid  out  and 
kept  in  perfect  order,  with  velvet  turf  and  noble  for- 
est  trees,  and,  in  one  part,  a  garden  of  vegetables  and 
flowers.  Set  in  the  midst  was  a  noble  stone  mansion 
some  sixty  feet  in  front,  with  wide  galleries  shaded 
by  a  projection  of  sloping  roof,  which  was  pierced  by 
dormer-windows.  Several  smaller  stone  buildings 
were  grouped  around  it,  and  from  one  to  the  other 
negroes  were  passing  on  various  errands,  giving  a 
cheerful  impression  of  industry  and  prosperity0  I 
caught  the  flutter  of  a  white  dress  disappearing 
through  a  wide  door  opening  from  the  gallery  into  the 
house,  and  I  would  have  liked  to  get  a  nearer  view  of 
the  mansion  and  its  inmates.  But  an  exclamation 
from  Mr.  Chouteau  put  all  thoughts  of  petticoats  out 
or  my  mind. 

8 


34  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

"Diable!"  he  ejaculated,  "  'tis  Black  Hawk 
himself.  Now  what  is  the  meaning  of  this,  think 
you?" 

I  followed  his  glance,  and  saw  coming  from  one  of 
the  outbuildings  the  noblest  specimen  of  a  savage  I 
had  ever  beheld.  Unlike  the  others,  he  was  decked  in 
no  worn-out  finery  of  the  white  man.  bestowed  upon 
him  in  exchange  for  valuable  furs,  but  in  the  fitting 
costume  of  a  great  chief,  his  head-dress  of  eagle 
feathers  falling  back  from  the  top  of  his  head  almost 
to  his  high  beaded  moccasins.  He  was  far  above  the 
usual  stature  of  Indians,  and  what  increased  his  ap 
pearance  of  height  was  the  lofty  brow  and  noble 
dome,  beneath  which  two  piercing  eyes  and  strong 
aquiline  nose  gave  additional  character  to  a  most 
striking  face. 

I  thought  both  Mr.  Chouteau  and  Dr.  Saugrain 
looked  a  little  troubled  for  a  moment,  but  as  the  sav 
age  stalked  majestically  toward  us,  Pierre  advanced 
to  meet  him,  and  with  a  courteous  but  commanding 
wave  of  his  hand  stopped  him. 

"What  has  brought  my  brother  from  his  island  on 
the  bosom  of  the  Great  Father  of  Waters  ? ' '  he  asked, 
after  both  had  exchanged  formal  greetings. 

Black  Hawk  turned  his  piercing  eyes  upon  my  cap 
tain.  "It  was  whispered  among  my  braves,"  he  said, 
* '  that  the  great  Captain  of  the  Long  Knives  had  sent 
his  brother  to  St.  Louis.  I  bring  him  a  greeting  from 
my  people." 

Most  men  would  have  been  abashed  by  the  cere 
monial  tone  and  gestures  with  which  Black  Hawk 


I  MEET  AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE  35 

accompanied  his  speech,  but  if  my  captain  felt  any 
embarrassment  he  did  not  show  it.  With  as  ceremo 
nious  a  manner  as  the  chief's,  he  replied  at  once : 

"The  great  chief  of  the  Sacs  has  honored  my  bro 
ther  and  myself.  I  will  bear  your  greeting  to  the  Cap 
tain  of  the  Long  Knives,  and  it  will  fill  his  heart  with 
happiness  to  know  his  red  brother  has  not  forgotten 
him." 

Black  Hawk  only  grunted  approval,  but  I  think  he 
was  pleased,  for  he  turned  to  Mr.  Chouteau  with  a 
more  condescending  manner: 

"I  will  go  with  my  brother  to  his  wigwam.  I  will 
eat  with  him  and  sleep  with  him. ' ' 

There  was  nothing  for  Mr.  Chouteau  to  do  but  ac 
quiesce,  though  when  his  back  was  turned  on  Black 
Hawk  he  made  a  queer  grimace  and  said  rapidly,  in 
English,  which  probably  Black  Hawk  did  not  under 
stand  : 

"There  will  be  trouble,  my  friends;  my  yard  is  full 
of  Mandans,  Arickarees,  and  Osages.  They  love  not 
the  Sacs,  and  Black  Hawk  is  a  turbulent  fellow  if  any 
misunderstanding  should  arise.  You  see,"  he  said  to 
Captain  Clarke,  lapsing  again  into  French,  "these 
fellows  have  usually  started  back  up  the  Missouri 
long  before  this  time,  but  they  have  all  waited  this  year 
to  see  the  brother  of  the  great  Captain  of  the  Long 
Knives.  They  planned  their  exit  from  Auguste  's  yard 
at  the  exact  moment  to  get  a  good  look  at  you. ' ' 

My  captain  laughed  his  hearty  laugh. 

"And  then  they  glanced  not  in  my  direction  even, 
after  all." 


36  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"Do  not  deceive  yourself,  mon  capitaine;  they 
looked  you  over  thoroughly.  Not  one  of  them  but 
would  know  you  again  among  a  thousand.  But  they 
timed  their  exit  also  with  the  hope  of  making  an  im 
pression  on  you,  and  to  that  end,  as  you  saw,  had 
donned  their  finest  toggery. ' ' 

We  had  left  Auguste  Chouteau's  yard  and  were 
going  north  again  along  the  stone  wall,  Black  Hawk 
stalking  majestically  beside  Captain  Clarke,  upon 
whom  he  from  time  to  time  looked  down  and  bestowed 
a  grunt  of  approval.  Across  the  street  from  us  now 
was  an  open  square  (La  Place  Publique,  Mr.  Chou- 
teau  called  it),  and  drawn  up  around  it  were  many 
queer  little  French  charrettes,  loaded  with  cord-wood 
and  drawn  by  small  mustangs.  The  owners  of  the 
charrettes  were  most  of  them  taking  a  noonday  nap 
under  the  shade  of  the  trees  in  La  Place,  and  their 
mustangs  were  nodding  drowsily  in  their  shafts  in 
sympathy  with  their  owners.  This  was  the  same  open 
place  we  had  first  come  upon  after  climbing  the 
bluff,  and  now,  as  we  came  to  the  corner  of  La  Place, 
and  the  street  leading  down  to  the  river  (Mr.  Chou- 
teau  said  the  street  was  called  La  Rue  Bonhomme), 
I  looked  down  the  steep  road  and  saw  at  the  foot  of  it 
the  landing-place,  and  our  boats  tied  to  great  posts, 
with  some  of  our  men  in  charge. 

I  could  distinguish  on  the  great  flatboat  that  had 
followed  us,  carrying  our  provisions  and  our  horses, 
my  own  mare,  Fatima,  with  her  proudly  arched  neck. 
Before  I  had  time  to  think  of  my  manners  I  had  put 
my  fingers  to  my  lips  and  uttered  through  them  the 


I  MEET  AN   OLD  ACQUAINTANCE  37 

shrill  whistle  with  which  I  had  used  to  call  her.  In 
stantly  her  head  was  flung  swiftly  up,  and  I  saw  her 
start  as  if  to  come  to  me,  while  up  the  bluff  was 
borne  her  shrill  whinnies,  high  above  the  shouts  of  the 
men,  who  had  as  much  as  they  could  do  to  keep  her 
from  breaking  halter  in  her  mad  plunge  for  liberty 
to  answer  the  call  she  had  never  disobeyed. 

I  was  ashamed  of  my  boyish  trick,  and  apologized 
at  once  to  the  two  gentlemen  and  to  my  captain. 
But  Dr.  Saugrain  said  it  was  a  fortunate  reminder: 
if  we  cared  to  send  for  our  horses  they  could  meet 
us  at  Mr.  Chouteau 's,  for  it  would  be  a  long  and  hot 
walk  from  there  to  his  house  at  the  extreme  southern 
end  of  the  village.  So  Yorke  was  despatched  for  the 
two  horses,  and  right  glad  was  I  at  the  thought  of 
being  on  Fatima's  back  once  more,  for  it  was  a  full 
two  weeks  since  I  had  mounted  her. 

We  were  on  the  next  block  now,  skirting  another 
stone  wall  with  overhanging  boughs.  Mr.  Chouteau 
said  it  was  his  mother's  place,  and  he  would  have  to 
insist  upon  our  stopping  to  pay  our  respects  to  her. 

"You  know,"  he  said,  "madame  ma  mere  is  a  sort 
of  mother  to  the  village,  and  she  would  feel  herself 
deeply  aggrieved  should  such  distinguished  guests 
pass  her  by." 

We  entered  another  inclosure  beautifully  embow 
ered  in  trees,  and  found  a  long,  low  building,  not  of 
stone,  like  her  son's  house,  but  built,  in  the  French 
fashion,  of  upright  logs.  On  the  wide  gallery  sat 
Madame  Chouteau  herself,  dressed  in  the  style  of  the 
habitans  who  had  filled  the  streets  on  our  arrival, 


38  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

but  in  richer  materials.  Her  petticoat  was  of  black 
satin,  and  her  short  gown,  or  jacket,  was  of  purple 
velvet  with  wide  lace  in  sleeves  and  at  the  neck,  and 
gorgeously  beaded  moccasins  on  her  feet.  But  it 
was  her  head-dress  which  struck  me  as  the  most  re 
markable  part  of  her  costume,  and  Pierre  Chouteau 
whispered  to  us,  with  a  droll  grimace : 

"Regardez  the  head-dress  of  madame;  she  expects 
us,  is  it  not  ?  She  is  en  fete. ' ' 

It  seemed  to  be  a  handkerchief  of  some  thin  mate 
rial,  purple  in  color,  and  worn  like  a  turban,  but 
entwined  with  ribbons  and  flowers  until  it  became 
a  gorgeous  coronet,  and  added  indescribably  to  the 
majesty  of  her  presence.  Already  over  seventy,  with 
white  hair,  she  wras  yet  as  erect  as  a  girl,  and  her  eye 
was  as  keen  as  an  eagle's.  Even  my  captain  was 
abashed  before  its  glances,  which  seemed  to  be  taking 
a  complete  inventory  of  his  physical,  mental,  and 
moral  qualities.  It  was  a  bad  quarter  of  an  hour  for 
me  (whom  she  hardly  deigned  to  notice),  in  spite  of 
the  good  ratafia  and  delicious  croquecignolles  a  small 
black  boy  brought  out  on  a  tray  and  placed  on  a 
stand  at  her  side,  and  which  she  served  to  us  with 
stately  courtesy. 

As  for  Black  Hawk,  it  was  more  than  he  could 
stand  when  her  severely  questioning  glance  fell  upon 
him.  Without  losing  an  ace  of  his  dignified  solem 
nity  of  demeanor,  he  turned  his  back  abruptly  on 
the  old  lady,  and  stalked  slowly  and  majestically 
down  the  path  and  out  the  gate.  We  hoped  we  had 
rid  ourselves  of  him,  but  we  found  him  waiting  for 


I  MEET  AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE  39 

us  when  we  had  made  our  formal  adieus  to  madame. 
Just  before  we  reached  Pierre  Chouteau 's  house  he 
dropped  back  and  walked  beside  Dr.  Saugrain  and 
myself.  I  thought  he  wished  to  pay  me  some  of  the  re 
spect  he  had  been  showing  my  captain,  and  I  felt 
nattered  accordingly.  But  I  was  mistaken;  he  had 
something  to  say  to  Dr.  Saugrain.  With  many  pre 
monitory  grunts  he  said  it  finally,  and  it  had  a  star 
tling  effect  upon  the  little  doctor. 

"Let  great  medicine-man  watch,"  said  Black 
Hawk,  solemnly;  "White  Wolf  will  steal  Little  Black 
Eyes.  Black  Hawk  has  many  ears  and  many  eyes; 
he  has  seen  White  Wolf  talking  to  Red  Dog,  and  he 
has  heard  their  whispers." 

Such  was  the  doctor's  agitation  that,  although  we 
were  just  entering  Mr.  Chouteau 's  great  yard  (so 
filled  with  all  manner  of  buildings,  warehouses,  shops, 
and  cabins  for  negroes  and  Indians  that  it  seemed 
like  a  separate  village  of  itself) ,  he  called  to  my  cap 
tain  and  Mr.  Chouteau  and  begged  them  to  excuse 
him.  He  felt  that  he  must  return  home  at  once  and 
assure  himself  of  the  safety  of  his  ward,  he  said, 
though  we  need  not  cut  short  our  visit  to  Mr.  Chou 
teau,  but  come  to  him  later,  in  time  for  dinner.  But 
Yorke  coming  up  at  that  moment  with  our  horses,  and 
riding  his  own,  Captain  Clarke  bade  him  dismount 
and  give  his  horse  to  Dr.  Saugrain,  and  insisted  upon 
accompanying  him  home.  Mr.  Chouteau  readily  ex 
cused  us,  only  courteously  making  a  condition  that 
the  visit  cut  short  now  should  be  renewed  at  our  earli 
est  convenience. 


40  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

As  for  me,  I  was  a  little  sorry  not  to  see  more  of 
Mr.  Chouteau's  place,  for  everywhere  there  were 
throngs  of  Indians  in  picturesque  costume,  and  on 
the  gallery  of  the  great  house  a  bevy  of  young 
maidens  evidently  awaiting  our  approach.  But  Fa- 
tima  was  calling  me  frantically  with  her  delighted 
neighs,  and  the  moment  I  was  on  her  back,  and  felt 
ner  silken  muscles  stretch  and  tighten  rhythmically 
beneath  me,  I  cared  no  more  for  Mr.  Chouteau's  in 
teresting  place  with  its  Indians  and  young  maidens, 
and  only  longed  for  a  right  to  leave  my  companions 
and  have  one  good  dash  with  Fatima  across  country, 
over  fences  and  ditches.  I  would  not  have  been 
afraid,  in  my  present  mood,  to  have  put  her  at  the 
high  stone  walls  with  which  every  one  in  St.  Louis 
seemed  to  fence  in  his  place,  and  so  wild  with  de 
light  was  Fatima  at  meeting  her  master  once  more 
I  think  she  would  have  taken  them  like  a  bird. 

But  the  doctor  was  more  impatient  than  I,  and 
first  taking  Black  Hawk  aside  for  a  minute's  low- 
toned  consultation,  he  made  his  hasty  adieus  to  our 
host,  and  bidding  us  follow  him,  he  was  off.  Turning 
off  the  Rue  Roy  ale  into  the  Rue  Bonhomme,  he  went 
up  the  hill  a  long  block  to  the  Rue  de  1'Egiise,  and 
then,  turning  to  the  left,  he  called  back  to  us : 

" 'T  is  a  straight  road  from  here  on,  messieurs; 
shall  we  race  for  it?  It  may  mean  more  than  life  to 
a  fair  lady." 

For  answer  I  laid  the  reins  on  Fatima 's  glossy 
neck  and  whispered  to  her: 

"Get  up,  Sweetheart!" 


I  MEET  AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE  41 

In  a  flash  she  had  passed  the  two  other  horses  and 
her  dainty  hoofs  were  flinging  the  soft  dirt  of  the 
road  in  their  faces.  It  was  more  a  country  lane  than 
a  village  street,  with  scattered  houses  tree-embow 
ered,  and  just  back  of  Auguste  Chouteau's  place, 
which  I  recognized  from  the  rear,  was  a  church,  and 
behind  it  the  crosses  of  many  graves,  and  beside  it 
a  priest's  house  with  two  black-robed  priests  taking 
a  noonday  siesta  in  comfortable  chairs  on  the  shady, 
vine-covered  gallery.  They  awoke  with  a  start  as 
Fatima  thundered  by,  and  the  two  other  horses,  now 
well  in  the  rear,  pounded  after,  and  I  doubt  not  they 
thought  it  was  the  beginning  of  another  1780  affair,  so 
frightened  did  they  look. 

It  did  not  take  Fatima  long  to  cover  that  mile  and 
a  half,  and  when  I  saw  that  we  were  approaching  the 
stockade  at  the  end  of  the  road,  with  only  one  house 
between  (which,  like  the  Chouteaus',  was  set  in  a 
great  yard  inclosed  with  high  stone  walls),  I  drew  rein 
under  a  wide-spreading  oak  and  waited  for  the  others-. 
And  as  I  waited  I  began  once  more  to  wonder  what 
kind  of  creature  Dr.  Saugrain's  ward  could  be:  the 
acknowledged  belle  of  St.  Louis  and  now  in  some  ex 
treme  danger  from  a  white  villain  and  a  rascally  In 
dian,  for  so  I  had  easily  understood  Black  Hawk's 
figurative  language— the  White  Wolf  and  the  Red 
Dog. 

I  could  hear  the  soft  thrumming  of  a  guitar,  and  a 
low  voice  crooning  songs,  of  which  I  could  now  and 
then  catch  a  word  of  the  Creole  French.  I  did  not 
doubt  it  was  the  doctor's  ward  who  thus  beguiled  the 


42  THE  KOSE  OF  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

hours  with  melody,  and  I  grew  vastly  impatient  to 
meet  the  loveliest  lady  in  St.  Louis  and  the  sweetest 
of  singers,  if  I  could  judge  from  the  snatches  of  song 
that  floated  to  my  ears. 

In  a  minute  more  the  doctor  himself  rode  up,  shout 
ing  lustily  before  he  reached  the  gate,  "Narcisse,  Nar 
cisse!"  which  put  a  sudden  end  to  the  music.  As  a 
black  boy  ran  out  in  answer  to  his  call,  the  doctor 
sprang  as  nimbly  from  his  horse  as  I  myself  could 
have  done,  and  flung  the  boy  his  reins  with  a  sharp 
command  to  take  care  of  the  horses.  He  started 
swiftly  for  the  house,  but  stopped  suddenly  and 
turned  to  Narcisse. 

"Where  are  your  mistress  and  mademoiselle?"  he 
asked,  in  a  tone  so  sharp  and  excited  the  boy  was 
frightened  and  stammered  as  he  answered: 

"In  the  house,  sir. " 

"You  are  sure?" 

"Yes,  sir;  'fore  God,  sir,  they  're  in  the  living- 
room  this  minute. ' ' 

"Thank  God  I"  ejaculated  the  doctor,  and  then  I 
saw,  to  my  astonishment,  that  he  was  all  white  and 
trembling.  He  recovered  himself  in  a  moment  and 
turned  to  us  with  the  suavity  of  a  genial  host  : 

"Gentlemen,  I  fear  that  rascal  Black  Hawk  has 
played  us  a  scurvy  trick;  very  likely  for  reasons  of 
his  own  he  wanted  to  get  rid  of  me.  He  has  given  me 
a  bad  quarter  of  an  hour,  but  otherwise  he  has  only 
given  me  the  pleasure  of  welcoming  you  a  little  earlier 
to  Emigre's  Retreat.  Let  us  go  find  the  ladies." 

Before  we  had  time  to  reply,  round  the  corner  of 


I  MEET  AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE  43 

the  house  sauntered  slowly  a  huge  mastiff,  and  as  I 
caught  a  glimpse  of  him  my  heart  sank  into  my 
boots,  and  there  seemed  to  rise  into  my  throat  a  tu 
multuous  beating  that  was  nigh  to  choking  me:  not 
from  fear  of  the  dog,  though  the  moment  he  caught 
sight  of  me  he  stopped,  every  muscle  tense,  the  hair 
on  his  mane  erect,  his  eyes  red,  glowing,  vicious,  while 
he  uttered  one  deep  angry  growl  after  another. 

It  was  not  fear  of  the  brute  that  set  my  pulses 
throbbing  painfully:  it  was  the  truth  that  flashed 
upon  me  for  the  first  time— Dr.  Saugrain's  ward  was 
Mademoiselle  Pelagic!  At  that  moment  through  the 
open  door  came  a  clear  whistle  and  the  sweetest  voice 
I  had  ever  heard,  calling  in  ringing  toneh,  of  com 
mand  : 

"Imoi,  Leon!" 


CHAPTER  IV 

I   MAKE   AN   ENGAGEMENT 
"A  rosebud  set  with  little  wilful  thorns  " 

IT  was  too  late  to  beat  a  retreat.  I  caught  once 
more  a  merry  twinkle  in  the  little  doctor's  eyes 
as  we  followed  the  dog,  who,  obedient  to  his  mistress's 
voice,  had  rushed  before  us  into  the  house.  I  felt 
the  red  blood  surging  to  the  roots  of  my  hair,  and  I 
knew  when  I  stopped  on  the  threshold  beside  my  cap 
tain  to  make  my  grand  bow  that  I  looked  more  like 
an  awkward  country  lout  than  the  fine  gentleman  I 
-was  in  the  habit  of  considering  myself. 

I  hardly  dared  raise  my  eyes,  and  yet  I  saw  very 
distinctly  that  if  Mademoiselle  Pelagie  in  ball  costume 
was  bewitching,  Mademoiselle  Pelagic  in  simple  morn 
ing  dress  was  an  angel.  The  room  was  a  long,  low  one, 
cool  and  shady  from  the  sheltering  galleries  outside, 
and  with  many  windows,  all  open  to  catch  the  south 
ern  breezes  that  kept  the  dimity  curtains  bellying  like 
white  sails.  On  a  low  seat  beside  one  of  the  open  win 
dows,  looking  out  into  cool  depths  of  dusky  green,  sat 
Mademoiselle  Pelagic.  Her  white  dress,  short  of  skirt 

44 


T  MAKE  AN  ENGAGEMENT  45 

and  reaching  hardly  to  the  daintiest  of  ankles,  was- 
just  low  enough  in  the  neck  to  show  the  round,  white 
throat,  and  just  short  enough  in  the  sleeve  to  leave  un 
covered  below  the  elbow  the  beautifully  molded  arm. 
Across  her  shoulders  was  a  broad  blue  ribbon  that  held 
the  guitar  to  whose  soft  thrumming  I  had  been  listen 
ing,  and  one  restraining  hand  was  laid  on  Leon's  head, 
who  sat  beside  her,  erect  on  his  haunches,  regarding 
me  with  angry  suspicion. 

She  rose  as  we  entered,  and  still  holding  her  guitar 
with  one  arm,  while  the  other  hand  lifted  her  skirt 
daintily,  she  made  us  the  deepest  and  most  graceful 
of  curtsies.  Then  she  lifted  her  dark  eyes  shyly  to 
Captain  Clarke  and  with  a  ravishing  smile  bade  him 
welcome  in  broken  English.  To  me  she  vouchsafed 
not  even  a  glance.  I  stood  by  stiff  as  any  martinet 
while  she  made  soft  speeches  to  the  captain  in  her 
adorable  baby-English,  and  the  captain  responded  in 
his  most  gallant  fashion. 

I  grew  more  rigid  and  more  gauche  every  minute,, 
and  I  know  not  what  would  have  become  of  me  if  the 
doctor,  who  had  left  the  room  to  look  for  his  wife,  had 
not  come  to  my  relief.  He  came  in,  bringing  Madame 
Saugrain  with  him,  and  a  sweet  and  simple  little  old 
lady  she  proved  to  be.  Her  cap  was  almost  as  flowery 
as  Madame  Chouteau's,  but  she  was  as  warm  and  cor 
dial  in  her  manner  as  the  other  was  stern  and  forbid 
ding.  She  greeted  my  captain  first,  of  course,  but  she 
was  as  cordial  to  me  as  to  him,  and  in  her  motherly 
way  she  called  me  "My  son,"  which,  after  my  icy 
reception  from  another  lady,  went  straight  to  my* 


46  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

heart.  I  was  grateful  to  her  in  spite  of  the  fear  I  felt 
that  it  was  my  very  youthful  appearance  had  called 
forth  the  endearing  term. 

We  were  all  comfortably  seated,  Captain  Clarke 
chatting  gaily  with  Mademoiselle  Pelagie,  I  pointedly 
addressing  all  my  conversation  to  Dr.  Saugrain  and 
madame,  when  Narcisse  came  in  with  a  tray  of  cooling 
drinks— a  mild  and  pleasant  beverage  made  of  rasp 
berry  conserves  and  lime-juice  mixed  with  some  spir 
its  and  plenty  of  cold  spring  water.  I  liked  it  well, 
and  would  have  taken  another  glass,  for  I  was  thirsty 
and  our  ride  had  been  a  warm  one,  and  Madame  Sau 
grain  urged  it  upon  me,  but  as  I  was  about  to  take  it 
I  heard  a  saucy  voice  saying: 

"  'T  is  no  wonder  that  you  empty  not  your  glass, 
Captain  Clarke;  'tis  a  drink  much  more  suited  to 
maidens  and  to  young  boys  than  to  men." 

My  glass  was  half  extended,  but  I  drew  it  back  has 
tily,  and  then  was  angry  with  myself,  for  I  heard  a 
mocking  laugh  that  I  was  sure  was  intended  for  me, 
and  for  the  life  of  me  I  could  not  refrain  from  glan 
cing  quickly  in  mademoiselle's  direction.  Her  eyes 
met  mine  with  more  of  scorn  in  their  dark  depths  than 
I  could  well  stand.  I  gazed  steadily  into  them  for  as 
much  as  half  a  second  with  all  the  defiance  in  my 
glance  I  knew  how  to  convey,  and  then  I  turned  again 
1;o  Madame  Saugrain : 

"If  you  will  permit  me  to  change  my  mind,  ma- 
dame,"  I  said,  "I  would  like  another  glass  of  your 
delicious  beverage. ' ' 

And  then,  lifting  it  to  my  lips,  I  added : 


I  MAKE  AN  ENGAGEMENT  47 

"I  drink  to  the  ladies:  they  add  fragrance  and 
beauty  to  our  lives,  like  the  red  berries;  comfort 
and  strength,  like  this  good  ratafia;  sweetness,  like 
the  sugar;  and  if  sometimes  they  also  add  bitter 
ness  and  acid,  like  the  limes,  it  is  doubtless  for  our 
good." 

The  gentlemen  both  touched  glasses  with  me  as  they 
drank  to  my  toast,  the  little  doctor  preternaturally  sol 
emn,  and  my  captain  almost  as  grave,  but  for  a  wicked 
twinkle  in  his  eye.  I  knew  they  thought  my  toast 
a  boyish  one,  and  doubtless  understood  its  inspiration, 
while  they  struggled  to  preserve  their  gravity  out  of 
courtesy  to  me.  Whether  mademoiselle's  eyes  were 
more  mocking  than  ever  I  did  not  know,  for  I  looked 
not  in  her  direction.  But  madame  glowed  with  genu 
ine  pleasure  and  declared  'twas  a  pretty  toast,  and 
she  thanked  me  for  her  share  in  it.  Whereupon  made 
moiselle  said  in  the  gravest  voice : 

* '  I  also,  monsieur,  thank  you  for  my  share  in  it,  for 
I  suppose  the  lime-juice  is  mine,"  and,  to  my  amaze 
ment,  when,  as  in  duty  bound,  I  glanced  at  her,  since 
she  spoke  directly  to  me,  I  saw  that  her  eyes  were 
downcast,  and  the  richest  color  had  flamed  into  the 
warm  white  of  her  cheeks. 

I  know  not  what  I  might  have  said  or  done,  so  re 
pentant  was  I  at  once  for  having  caused  her  annoy 
ance,  had  not  a  short,  sharp  exclamation  from  Dr. 
Saugrain  startled  us  all : 

"  'T  is  that  skulking  Osage  again.  What  does  he 
here,  Nareisse?" 

"He  bring  note,  m'seh,  for  La  Petite,"  answered 


48  THE   ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Narcisse,  rolling  his  eyes  at  the  unwonted  sharpness 
in  his  master's  tones. 

Dr.  Saugrain  turned  at  once  to  mademoiselle. 

"Pelagie,"  he  said,  "what  does  this  mean?  Who 
is  sending  you  notes  by  Red  Jean?" 

Mademoiselle  looked  up  half  defiantly,  half  in 
clined  not  to  reply  to  such  peremptory  questioning  in 
the  presence  of  strangers.  But  on  second  thought  she 
answered  quite  submissively : 

c '  It  was  the  young  Chevalier  Le  Moyne  who  is  stay 
ing  at  Gabriel  Cerre's." 

"Now,  I  like  not  that,"  said  the  doctor,  hastily ;  and 
then  bethinking  himself,  he  ordered  Narcisse  to  take 
away  the  empty  glasses  and  keep  an  eye  on  Red  Jean. 

"Don't  let  him  get  out  of  your  sight  as  long  as  he 
stays  about  the  place;  he  will  be  stealing  the  horses  if 
you  don't  watch  him." 

The  moment  Narcisse  had  left  the  room  the  doctor 
repeated : 

"I  like  not  that;  I  begin  to  think  Black  Hawk  may 
have  had  good  reason  to  warn  us  against  the  White 
Wolf  and  the  Red  Dog." 

Then,  turning  to  mademoiselle,  he  added  more 
gently : 

"I  like  not  to  inquire  into  mademoiselle's  little  af 
fairs,  but  this  is  of  the  gravest  importance.    Will  you 
tell  us  the  contents  of  that  note,  ma  chere?" 

Mademoiselle  hesitated,  and  glanced  almost  uncon 
sciously  at  the  captain  and  at  me.  We  both  sprang 
to  our  feet  at  the  same  moment,  and  the  captain 
spoke : 


I  MAKE  AN  ENGAGEMENT  40 

' '  The  lad  and  I  will  step  out  on  the  gallery,  where, 
if  you  permit,  we  will  light  our  pipes." 

But  with  a  quick  gesture  of  dissent,  mademoiselle 
also  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"No,  no!  mon  capitaine,  no,  no!  Meestaire,  it  is 
not 'ing,  not 'ing.  I  will  say  all  before  you.  'T  is  only 
that  the  chevalier  asks  may  he  escort  me  to  the  peek- 
neek  on  Chouteau's  Pond." 

"Sit  down,  gentlemen,  if  you  please,"  said  the  doc 
tor  ;  ' '  I  think  it  wise  for  us  to  hold  a  council  of  war. 
I  shall  need  your  advice  much,  possibly  your  help. 
First,  I  want  to  say  that  some  weeks  ago  I  received 
letters  from  France  warning  me  of  a  plot  to  capture 
Mademoiselle  Pelagie  and  carry  her  back  to  France.  A 
week  ago  this  mysterious  stranger  arrived  in  St.  Louis. 
Gabriel  Cerre  picked  him  up  in  Ste.  Genevieve  and 
brought  him  home  with  him,  and  that  is  about  all  any 
one  knows  of  him,  except  that  he  claims  to  be  of  an 
old  French  family,  who  has  saved  enough  from  the 
wreck  to  permit  him  to  travel  and  see  the  world. 
When  he  has  finished  this  trip  he  declares  he  will  re 
turn  and  settle  on  his  estates  on  the  Loire  which  he 
says  have  been  returned  to  him  by  Bonaparte.  Whe 
ther  Black  Hawk  meant  him  when  he  bade  me  beware 
of  the  White  Wolf  I  know  not.  I  could  get  very  little 
information  when  I  spoke  to  him  before  leaving  Pierre 
Chouteau's,  and  I  am  not  sure  he  had  any  to  give  me, 
yet  I  think  he  knows  something.  I  confess  I  have  been 
suspicious  of  this  fellow  from  the  first,  arriving,  as  he 
did,  on  the  heels  of  my  letter  of  warning.  And  now 
what  think  you  't  is  best  to  do  ? " 


50  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

I  was  eager  enough  to  say  what  I  thought  best  to  do, 
but  I  knew  my  place  better  than  to  speak  before  my 
elders,  and  so  I  waited  for  my  captain.  Mademoiselle 
was  not  so  modest,  or  perhaps  she  thought  no  one  had 
a  better  right  than  herself  to  speak  on  a  subject  so 
nearly  concerning  her. 

"I  think,  sir,"  she  said,  lapsing  into  her  native 
tongue,  "you  wrong  the  Chevalier  Le  Moyne.  I  have 
seen  much  of  him  in  the  week  of  his  stay  at  Gabriel 
Cerre's,  and  he  has  been  invariably  respectful  and 
most  gentleman-like  in  all  his  demeanor." 

"  'T  is  the  very  fact  of  his  seeing  so  much  of  you, 
my  child,  that  first  roused  my  suspicions.  He  is  for 
ever  hanging  round  you  at  dance  and  dinner ;  not  even 
Josef  Papin  gets  much  chance  to  come  nigh  you. ' ' 

Mademoiselle  flushed  slightly  at  the  mention  of 
Josef  Papin 's  name— a  name  I  was  beginning,  for 
some  reason,  to  dislike. 

"I  should  think,"  she  said  demurely,  "there  might 
be  other  reasons  for  that  than  suspicious  ones";  and 
then  she  laughed  merrily  when  I  murmured,  "Vrai- 
ment!"  and  touched  my  heart  with  my  handkerchief. 
1  thought  she  was  mocking  me  again. 

"Mademoiselle  is  quite  right,"  said  Captain  Clarke, 
gravely ;  ' '  there  are  doubtless  very  natural  reasons  for 
the  chevalier's  devotion,  yet  I  think  it  would  be  well, 
nevertheless,  to  act  on  Dr.  Saugrain's  suspicions. 
May  I  inquire  whether  mademoiselle  has  accepted  the 
chevalier's  offer  of  escort?" 

We  all  listened  eagerly  for  the  answer. 

"No,"  said  mademoiselle;  "I  had  just  received  the 


I  MAKE  AN  ENGAGEMENT  61 

note  when  you  arrived,  and  I  would  not  answer  it 
until  I  had  consulted  my  guardian.  He  is  very  stern 
with  me,  messieurs,"  turning  to  us  with  a  witch 
ing  smile  that  I  could  see  pleased  the  good  doctor 
greatly. 

"Then,"  continued  the  captain,  "it  would  be  a 
very  easy  matter,  I  suppose,  to  decline  his  escort." 

But  La  Petite  pouted. 

"Not  so  easy,  mon  capitaine.  I  have  no  reason  to 
offer,  and  it  would  shut  me  off  from  accepting  a  sec 
ond  invitation." 

"I  think,"  said  Dr.  Saugrain,  "it  would  be  better 
that  you  should  not  go  to  the  picnic.  Chouteau's 
Pond  is  beyond  the  stockade,  and  shut  in  by  the 
woods ;  it  would  be  an  ideal  spot  for  a  surprise  and  a 
capture.  There  are  always  plenty  of  rascally  Osages 
to  be  hired  for  a  trifle  to  carry  out  any  such  villainy." 

"Not  go!"  exclaimed  mademoiselle,  in  dismay. 
"But  it  is  given  for  me !  It  is  my  fete !  Josef  Papin 
planned  it  entirely  for  me,  he  said." 

Mademoiselle  was  now  growing  rosy  red,  for,  with 
a  child's  eagerness  to  carry  her  point  at  all  hazards, 
she  had  said  more  than  she  meant  to. 

"Then  why  did  not  Josef  offer  himself  as  your 
escort?" 

"He  will,  probably,  later;  but,"  and  she  tossed 
her  head  like  the  spoiled  beauty  she  was,  "it  will  serve 
him  right,  for  being  so  slow,  to  find  that  I  have  ac 
cepted  another.  Besides  which,"  and  she  shrugged 
her  shoulders  with  all  the  airs  of  a  Parisian  dame, 
"you  know  your  bourgeois  etiquette.  I  cannot  accept 


52  THE  ROSE  OF   OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

another:  it  would  be  a  just  cause  for  a  duel  au  pis- 
tolets." 

"C'est  vrai,"  said  the  doctor,  with  an  answering 
shrug,  and  looking  woefully  perplexed. 

"Now,  if  you  will  permit  me,"  suggested  the  cap 
tain,  "since  mademoiselle  is  so  sure  Mr.  Papin  will  ask 
her  later,  why  can  she  not  plead  to  the  chevalier  a 
previous  engagement?" 

But  not  for  a  moment  would  mademoiselle  listen  to 
that. 

"And  be  the  laughing-stock  of  all  St.  Louis  when 
it  gets  about,  as  it  surely  will.  I  refuse  the  chevalier 
because  I  prefer  to  wait  for  Monsieur  Papin.  Mon 
sieur  Papin  hears  of  it  and  invites  some  one  else  to 
teach  me  not  to  be  so  sure,  or, ' '  primly,  ' '  I  have  given 
him  undue  encouragement." 

"Then,"  said  the  doctor,  gravely,  "I  see  nothing 
for  it  but  that  you  stay  away  from  the  picnic  and 
write  the  chevalier  that  you  have  decided  not  to  go 
Unless, ' '  he  added  hastily,  seeing  the  gathering  storm 
on  Pelagie's  brow,  "unless—"  and  then  he  hesitated, 
much  embarrassed.  "Perhaps  our  young  friend  here 
would  like  to  attend  one  of  our  rural  picnics,  and 
would  be  willing  to  look  after  you  and  give  you  the 
opportunity  of  writing  to  the  chevalier  that  you  have 
a  previous  engagement." 

It  was  now  my  turn  to  blush.  I  had  been  ardently 
longing  to  offer  my  services,  but  not  for  a  moment  had 
I  thought  of  daring.  Now  it  was  thrust  upon  me. 

"If  mademoiselle  would  be  so  good,"  I  murmured, 
bowing  low,  "I  am  her  obedient  servant." 


I  MAKE  AN  ENGAGEMENT  53 

But  mademoiselle  was  speechless.  One  moment  she 
turned  white,  and  the  next  she  turned  red,  and  then 
white  again.  When  she  found  her  voice  she  said, 
looking  not  at  all  at  me,  but  straight  at  Dr.  Saugrain: 

"I  will  remain  at  home,  monsieur.  I  care  not  to  be 
a  burden  upon  unwilling  hands." 

And  then  rising  to  her  feet,  with  her  head  held 
high,  her  guitar  on  one  arm,  and  the  other  hand  still 
on  the  mastiff's  head,  she  said : 

" Aliens,  Leon!"  and  was  sweeping  proudly  from 
the  room. 

I  was  in  such  consternation  that  probably  I  would 
have  sat  like  any  bumpkin  and  let  her  go,  if  not  that, 
•as  she  passed  me,  although  her  head  was  turned  from 
me,  it  was  not  quite  so  much  turned  but  that  I  caught 
-a  sudden  quiver  of  the  little  chin,  held  proudly  in  air, 
and  something  bright  glistening  on  the  long,  dark 
lashes.  I  sprang  quickly  before  her.  There  was  an 
angry  growl  from  Leon,  who  no  doubt  thought  I  in 
tended  to  serve  his  mistress  the  same  trick  I  had 
served  him,  but  I  did  not  heed  it. 

" Mademoiselle!"  I  entreated,  "I  beg  you  will  re 
consider.  Nothing  could  give  me  more  pride  and 
pleasure.  Besides,"  adopting  an  argumentative  tone, 
"you  know  it  would  be  my  only  chance  for  attending 
the  picnic,  and  I  have  a  vast  desire  to  engage  in  some 
of  your  St.  Louis  festivities,  and  to  meet  some  of  the 
young  maidens  I  was  deprived  of  meeting  last  night. ' ' 

She  was  compelled  to  stop.— I  barred  her  way;  but 
for  a  few  moments  she  showed  no  signs  of  relenting. 
She  dashed  away  the  shining  drops  from  her  lashes, 


54  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

and    quieted   Leon    with    a    low    "Taise-toi."      Buf 
gradually  I  saw  her  face  change,  and  then,  still  hol<i 
ing  herself  proudly,  and  with  the  air  of  a  queen 
ciously  condescending  to  bestow  a  favor  upon  a  si 
pliant,  but  also  with  a  smile  of  radiant  sweetness,  she 
spoke,  and  her  voice  was  like  the  song  of  the  thrush 
beside  running  waters : 

"Very  well,  monsieur;  if  I  am  not  to  be  considered 
as  putting  myself  under  obligations  to  a  stranger,  I 
will  go  and  write  the  chevalier  that  I  have  a  previous 
engagement. ' ' 


CHAPTER  V 


I  GO   TO  A   PICNIC   ON    CHOUTEAU'S   POND 


"  Many  a  youth  and  many  a  maid 
Dancing  in  the  chequered  shade." 

good  doctor  uttered  a  sigh  of  relief  as  made- 
I  moiselle  left  the  room,  followed  by  madame,  who 
no  doubt,  in  the  goodness  of  her  heart,  went  out  to 
praise  the  young  lady  for  having  done  as  she  ought, 
and  to  condole  with  her  for  being  obliged  to  go  to  the 
picnic  with  a  man  she  knew  so  slightly,  and  knew  but 
to  dislike. 

The  sigh  was  quickly  followed  by  a  frown. 

"I  wish  that  my  ward  had  not  so  strong  a  will  of 
her  own.  I  scarce  think  it  safe  for  her  to  go  to  Chou- 
teau's  Pond  at  all  if,  as  I  fear,  her  enemies  are  plot 
ting  to  capture  her." 

"I  will  defend  her  with  my  life,  sir,"  I  hastened  to 
aver,  "since  you  are  so  good  as  to  intrust  her  to  me." 

The  doctor  smiled  at  my  boyish  ardor,  but  said 
kindly : 

' '  I  would  trust  her  with  you  sooner  than  with  most, 
my  lad,  for  I  believe  I  have  seen  enough  of  you  to 
know  that  you  are  brave  to  a  fault,  and  entirely  trust- 

55 


56  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

worthy.  But  you  know  not  the  wiles  of  these  treach 
erous  Osages,  and  if  this  Chevalier  Le  Moyne  is  the 
man  I  fear  he  is,  he  is  a  much  to  be  dreaded  villain." 

' '  Whom  do  you  fear  him  to  be  ? "  the  captain  and  I 
uttered  in  one  breath. 

The  good  doctor  hesitated  a  moment  and  then 
seemed  to  take  a  sudden  determination. 

"I  am  afraid  I  have  no  right  to  be  letting  you  into 
my  confidence,  for  it  is  not  mine  alone.  In  what  I  am 
about  to  say  to  you  it  is  my  country  reposing  a  con 
fidence  as  well.  But  our  brief  acquaintance  has  in 
spired  me  with  trust  in  you  both,  and  I  have  need  of 
advice  and  help  in  this  emergency,  and  perhaps  of  a 
good  sword,  if  one  of  you  be  free  to  offer  it.  It  is  not 
the  fortunes  of  a  simple  maid,  such  as  my  little  Pela- 
gie  seems  to  be,  that  are  alone  involved,  and  yet  I  am 
not  at  liberty  to  tell  you  what  great  issues  are  at  stake. 
We  will  say,  by  way  of  illustration,  it  would  be  to  the 
advantage  of  an  Orleanist  to  get  rid  of  all  possible 
Bourbon  claimants  to  the  throne  of  France,  would  it 
not?  Merely  by  way  of  further  illustration,  suppose 
there  were  some  young  Orleanist,  far  removed  from 
any  pretensions  to  the  throne,  who  by  marrying  a 
young  Bourbon  maid  much  closer  to  the  throne,  but, 
of  course,  barred  from  it  by  her  sex,  should  prevent 
her  marrying  royalty  and  so  having  a  son  who  might 
succeed  to  the  throne.  Do  you  follow  me?" 

We  both  bowed  our  comprehension,  for  we  were  too 
eager  to  interrupt  him  by  a  word.  The  doctor  went 
on : 

"And  suppose  by  such  a  marriage  he  removed  one 


1   GO  TO  A  PICNIC  OX  CHOUTEAU'S  POND  57 

more  obstacle  from  the  path  of  a  powerful  kinsman  in 
his  progress  toward  the  throne.  And  if  this  young  Or- 
leanist  were  penniless  and  the  Bourbon  maid  rich  in 
prospect,  he  would  save  his  kinsman  the  necessity  of 
providing  for  him.  And  if  he  wrere  dissolute  and  un 
principled,  he  would  hesitate  at  no  means  to  accom 
plish  his  ends.  And  if  he  were  handsome,  after  a  fash 
ion,  and  accomplished  in  all  Parisian  arts,  there  would 
be  reasonable  chance  of  his  success  with  a  young 
maiden  but  little  versed  in  the  wiles  of  the  world.  Al 
though  I  have  used  this  merely  as  an  illustration,  this 
is  very  much  the  situation  that  confronts  Pelagic 's 
friends.  You  see,  I  have  some  reason  to  feel  alarmed, 
and  I  fear  I  have  no  right  to  permit  her  to  go  to  this 
picnic.  Yet, ' '  with  a  grimace,  ' '  what  can  I  ?  Where 
a  wilful  maiden  will,  a  man  is  helpless. 

"  And  now,  messieurs,  you  see  how  fully  I  have 
trusted  you,  not  only  with  my  affairs,  but  the  affairs 
of  France.  I  am  not  asking  for  a  pledge  of  secrecy, 
for  I  feel  no  such  pledge  is  necessary.  Pelagie 
and  her  interests  and  the  interests  of  her  house  in 
France  I  believe  to  be  as  safe  in  your  hands  as  in  my 
own. ' ' 

As  the  doctor  uttered  these  last  words  he  sprang  to 
his  feet,  and  betrayed  the  intensity  of  his  feeling  by 
the  mist  in  his  eyes,  the  tremor  in  his  voice,  and  the 
dramatic  clasping  of  his  hands. 

By  a  simultaneous  emotion  of  sympathy,  both  the 
captain  and  I  found  ourselves  on  our  feet  also.  The 
captain  extended  his  hand,  and,  like  the  straightfor 
ward,  simple-minded  gentleman  he  is,  said  only: 


58  THE  ROSE   OF   OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

"Your  trust  is  not  misplaced,  Dr.  Saugrain;  your 
secret  is  safe.  '  ' 

I  was  almost  too  deeply  moved  for  words;  I  could 
only  murmur  as  I  bowed  low  over  the  hilt  of  my 


"Safe  as  my  honor!" 

I  know  not  with  what  emotions  my  captain  had  lis 
tened  to  this  long  recital.  As  for  me,  I  had  been  in 
tensely  interested.  Yet  I  could  not  tell  why  it  should 
not  please  me  to  find  that  this  scornful  little  lady  was 
presumptive  heiress  to  wealth  and  titles,  probably 
-even  of  royal  rank,  for  so  I  could  not  but  understand 
the  doctor's  illustration. 

"Does  Mademoiselle  Pelagie  know  all  this?"  in 
quired  the  captain.  "Does  she  know  her  rank  and 
prospects?  Is  it  permitted  to  speak  of  them  to  her?  " 

"Oh,  no,  no,  no!"  uttered  the  doctor,  rapidly,  with 
-vigorous  protestations  of  head  and  hands.  "Pelagie 
knows  nothing  but  that  almost  longer  ago  than  she 
-can  remember  she  lived  in  a  beautiful  house  with 
many  servants,  and  with  a  father  and  mother  who 
idolized  her,  but  who  went  away  from  her  one  day 
never  to  return.  Of  course  she  knows  now  why  they 
never  returned,  but  that  is  all.  She  has  lived  with  us 
in  America  nearly  ten  years,  and  I  think  she  has 
learned  to  love  Madame  Saugrain  and  me  almost  as  if 
we  were  indeed  her  father  and  mother,  and  we  could 
not  love  child  of  our  own  more  tenderly. 

"And  so  you  see,  my  dear  young  sir,"  regarding 
me  with  affectionate  concern,  "what  a  weighty  re 
sponsibility  I  have  put  upon  your  young  shoulders. 


I  GO  TO  A  PICNIC  ON  CHOUTEAU'S  POND  59 

If  the  burden  is  too  great  for  you,  I  absolve  you  from 
your  offer  as  escort,  and  Pelagie  shall  stay  at  home 
whether  she  will  or  not.  I  think  it  would  be  far  the 
better  way." 

"Oh,  no,  no,  sir!"  I  protested  eagerly.  "I  am 
proud  you  think  me  worthy  such  a  responsibility.  I 
will  never  let  her  out  of  my  sight  for  one  moment,  and 
I  promise  to  bring  her  back  to  you  in  safety. ' ' 

"Thank  you,"  said  the  doctor,  gravely;  "that  is 
what  I  would  wish.  Do  not  let  her  out  of  your  sight 
if  it  is  possible.  Even  if  she  seems  to  be  fretted  by 
your  espionage  I  hope  you  will  bear  with  her  temper, 
—which  I  know  to  be  a  royal  one,— and  persist  in 
your  watchfulness.  I  shall  be  deeply  grateful  to* 
you." 

By  the  time  the  day  of  the  picnic  arrived,  I  flattered 
myself  I  had  made  some  slight  progress  in  Mademoi 
selle  Pelagie 's  regard.  Very  slight,  to  be  sure,  yet  I 
thought  she  did  not  treat  me  with  quite  the  disdain 
she  had  shown  at  first.  Indeed,  I  even  thought  I  some 
times  detected  that  she  was  listening  with  interest 
when  Madame  Saugrain  or  the  good  doctor  was  ques 
tioning  me  about  my  life  at  home  in  Philadelphia. 

Twice  a  day  at  least  we  were  brought  together  at 
the  table,  for  the  captain  and  I  had  taken  up  our  abode 
at  Dr.  Saugrain 's.  It  was  not  without  much  demur 
that  we  had,  at  last,  accepted  the  doctor's  urgent  in 
vitations  to  do  so.  To  be  sure,  there  was  no  hostelry 
in  the  village,  except  the  low  tavern  where  the  dis 
reputable  Indians  and  rough  river-men  congregated, 
and  we  would  have  been  obliged  to  accept  some  of  the 


60  THE  EOSE  OP  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

many  hospitable  invitations  extended  us  by  the  Chou- 
teaus,  the  Papins,  the  Cerres,  indeed  by  nearly  every 
leading  citizen  of  St.  Louis,  all  eagerly  vying  with 
one  another  for  the  privilege  of  entertaining  General 
Clarke's  brother.  I  think  the  captain's  hesitancy 
arose  from  the  feeling  that  he  ought  to  accept  Emile 
Yosti  's  or  Manuel  Lisa 's  hospitality,  since  his  business 
was  chiefly  concerned  with  them ;  but  with  me  it  was 
the  feeling  that  it  would  be  intolerable  to  dwell  under 
the  same  roof  with  my  Lady  Disdain,  and  be  subjected 
to  countless  little  ignominies  at  her  hands.  Yet  when 
the  doctor  presented  it  to  us  as  a  very  great  favor 
to  him  at  this  time,  when  he  might  need  our  assistance 
as  well  as  our  advice  in  protecting  Mademoiselle  Pela- 
gie,  we  could  object  no  further,  and  I,  at  least,  was  as 
eager  to  stay  as  I  had  before  been  unwilling.  To  me  it 
seemed  the  more  reasonable  that  he  might  easily  need 
what  assistance  our  swords  could  give  him,  if  there 
were  really  on  foot  a  plan  to  capture  mademoiselle, 
because  the  doctor's  house  was  set  in  a  large  garden, 
at  the  extreme  borders  of  the  village,  next  to  the 
stockade  and  with  no  neighbor  within  hearing. 

The  day  of  the  picnic  rose  clear  and  bright,  chang 
ing  soon  to  the  purple  haze  and  soft  air  of  a  day  in 
late  November.  Breakfast  was  hardly  over  when  the 
picnickers  began  to  pass  the  house,  some  of  them  walk 
ing  in  merry  groups,  some  in  little  French  carts 
drawn  by  oxen  or  small,  hardy  ponies,  but  many  of 
them,  I  noted  with  a  beating  heart,  on  horseback  car 
rying  double,  the  maiden  on  a  pillion  holding  fast 
with  her  arm  around  her  escort's  waist.  Was  it  thus 


I  GO  TO  A  PICNIC  ON  CHOUTEAU'S  POND  61 

my  Lady  Disdain  expected  to  be  carried  to  the  picnic, 
I  wondered,  and  could  not  tell  for  the  life  of  me  whe 
ther  I  most  hoped  it  or  dreaded  it. 

But  my  hopes  and  fears  were  alike  vain.  I  sat 
smoking  on  the  shady  gallery,  and  was  beginning  to 
wonder  when  my  lady  would  see  fit  to  start,  for  by 
now  the  procession  had  thinned  out  to  almost  none, 
only  a  straggling  couple  occasionally  hurrying  by  as 
if  they  feared  they  were  late  and  must  hasten  to  be 
in  time  for  the  sport.  I  began  to  think  it  possible  she 
had  changed  her  mind  and  would  stay  at  home  rather 
than  go  with  an  undesired  escort. 

I  had  risen  early,  and  though  I  had  made  an  un 
usually  careful  toilet,  calling  Yorke  to  my  aid  to  see 
that  every  lacer  was  fresh  and  securely  tied,  and  my 
buckles  shining,  yet  I  had  made  much  haste  also,  not 
knowing  at  what  hour  mademoiselle  proposed  starting, 
and  fearing  greatly  to  annoy  her  by  being  one  mo 
ment  tardy.  So  here  had  I  sat  smoking  on  the  shady 
gallery  a  good  two  hours  awaiting  my  lady's  pleasure, 
and  beginning  inwardly  to  fume,  for  my  temper  was 
not  such  as  to  bear  meekly  even  the  caprices  of  a  beau 
tiful  maiden— no,  not  though  she  might  be  also  some 
great  lady  in  disguise. 

But  when  I  had  for  the  tenth  time  started  up  to 
stride  angrily  up  and  down  the  gallery,  I  heard  the 
creaking  of  wheels,  and  around  the  corner  of  the  house 
came  a  little  French  charrette,  its  wooden  wheels  mak 
ing  a  great  noise,  drawn  by  one  ox  and  Narcisse  walk 
ing  beside  it,  driving.  I  was  filled  with  dismay,  for  to 
me  it  seemed  not  a  mode  of  conveyance  suited  to  the 


£2  THE  ROSE   OF   OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

dignity  of  the  son  of  one  of  the  proudest  families  of 
Philadelphia,  to  say  nothing  of  Mademoiselle  Pelagic. 
Besides,  I  had  had  visions  of  the  fine  figure  I  was  to 
cut  before  the  St.  Louis  beaus  and  belles  on  my  pran 
cing  and  curveting  Fatima,  whose  glossy  coat  was  like 
satin  this  morning  from  the  extra  rubbing  I  had  or 
dered  Yorke  to  give  her. 

But  as  Narcisse  passed  me  and  pulled  off  his  hat 
with  an  amiable  grin,  I  saw  a  great  hamper  in  the 
charrette,  and  from  a  spicy  whiff  borne  to  my  nostrils 
by  a  passing  breeze  I  knew  he  was  conveying  our  din 
ner  to  the  picnic-grounds,  and  I  was  duly  thankful 
that  neither  Fatima  nor  I  was  to  be  hampered  ( 't  is 
a  poor  pun,  and  my  father  hath  ever  taught  me  't  is 
the  lowest  form  of  wit)  with  clumsy  packages  dan 
gling  from  saddle  and  arm. 

In  a  moment  more,  around  the  corner  of  the  house 
again  came  a  black,  leading  a  small  Indian  horse 
gaily  caparisoned,  and  fitted  with  a  lady's  pillion,  and 
immediately  behind,  Yorke,  leading  my  own  Fatima. 
I  knew  then  we  were  about  to  start,  and  my  heart  be 
gan  once  more  its  silly  thumpings.  Yet  would  I  not 
move  from  my  seat,  where  I  had  assumed  an  attitude 
of  indifference,  until  I  suddenly  heard  behind  me  a 
cool  and  haughty  voice : 

"Are  you  not  ready,  sir?  It  is  high  time,  I  should 
think,  we  were  on  our  way,  or  we  will  be  too  late  for 
the  dejeuner." 

Now  was  I  in  wrath  indeed,  to  be  spoken  to  in  tones 
of  reproach  when  I  had  every  reason  to  expect  at  least 
an  excuse,  if  not  an  apology,  for  having  been  kept  so 


I  GO  TO  A  PICNIC  ON  CHOUTEAU'S  POND  63 

.long  waiting.  I  rose  to  my  feet  in  leisurely  fashion 
and  made  mademoiselle  a  most  elaborate  bow,  as  I  re 
plied  in  a  voice  as  cool  and  haughty  as  her  own : 

"Had  I  been  informed  at  what  hour  mademoiselle 
would  require  my  presence,  I  should  have  been  belted 
and  hatted  and  not  have  detained  your  ladyship  for 
even  a  moment,  to  say  nothing  of  having  wasted  two 
good  hours  of  my  own  time  in  idle  waiting. ' ' 

As  I  spoke  I  stooped  to  pick  up  my  sword-belt  from 
the  floor  beside  my  chair,  and  began  slowly  to  buckle 
it  on.  My  eyes  were  on  my  belt,  but  not  so  closely 
but  that  I  could  see  a  little  smile  hover  around  made 
moiselle 's  lips,  and  I  thought  she  was  not  displeased 
to  find  I  had  a  little  spirit  of  my  own  and  was  not 
always  to  be  cowed  by  her  scornful  airs.  I  was  so 
elated  by  the  discovery  that  I,  foolishly,  prolonged 
.the  buckling  beyond  all  possible  necessity,  and  made 
moiselle's  good  humor  was  quickly  exhausted.  She 
tapped  her  little  foot  impatiently  for  a  moment  and 
then  spoke  as  icily  as  before : 

' '  Since  monsieur  finds  difficulty  with  his  belt,  I  will 
ask  Yorke  to  put  me  on  my  horse  and  then  send  him 
to  your  assistance. ' ' 

All  my  foolish  elation  was  gone  in  a  moment,  and, 
between  my  mortification  and  my  impatient  haste,  I 
fumbled  in  earnest.  I  was  in  desperate  haste ;  for  not 
for  a  moment  did  I  intend  to  let  Yorke  put  her  upon 
her  horse :  yet  so  swiftly  had  she  swept  down  the  long 
gallery  and  the  steps  to  the  driveway  a  little  distance 
off,  and  so  slow  had  I  been  with  my  buckle,  that  I 
reached  her  side  just  in  time  to  hear  her  say : 


64  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"Yorke,  put  me  on  my  horse,  and  then  go  at  once 
and  buckle  your  master's  belt.  We  are  like  to  be  all 
day  getting  to  Chouteau's  Pond." 

"Yes,  missy,"  said  Yorke,  and  flinging  Fatima's 
reins  to  Narcisse,  prepared  to  obey  her,  though  he 
could  only  have  comprehended  by  intuition,  for  not 
a  word  of  her  tongue  did  he  understand. 

I  was  restored  at  once  to  my  equanimity  by  her  im 
patient  tones,  and  I  spoke  to  Yorke  with  a  calm  au 
thority  he  dared  not  disobey : 

1 '  Take  care  of  Fatima,  Yorke ;  I  will  attend  to  made 
moiselle,"  and  without  giving  her  time  to  object  I 
coolly  lifted  her  to  her  horse.  She  was  only  a  feather 's 
weight,  but  I  think  she  liked  not  that  fashion  of 
mounting,  and  was  minded  for  a  moment  to  kick  and 
scream  like  an  angry  child.  But  she  thought  better 
of  it,  and  though  the  quick  flame  sprang  into  her 
cheek,  she  bowed  her  thanks  in  stately  fashion,  and  I 
springing  on  Fatima's  back  and  bidding  Yorke  to  fol 
low  at  once,  we  set  forth  at  a  round  pace. 

Not  a  word  did  she  speak  as  we  galloped  side  by 
side  down  the  driveway,  through  the  gate,  and  along 
the  short  bit  of  road  that  extended  to  the  stockade. 
When  we  had  passed  through,  there  was  not  much 
more  than  a  rough  foot-path,  that  began  to  descend 
very  soon  from  the  high  bluffs,  sometimes  by  a  gentle 
incline,  sometimes  by  a  steep  and  rocky  descent,  to 
the  valley  of  La  Petite  Riviere. 

The  path  was  no  longer  wide  enough  for  two  horses, 
and  we  were  compelled  to  ride  in  Indian  fashion.  Fa 
tima  was  ahead  and  was  picking  her  way  daintily  and 


I  GO  TO  A  PICNIC  ON  CHOUTEAU'S  POND  65 

surely,  but  slowly.  The  little  Indian  horse,  being  much 
more  used  to  such  rough  paths,  would  have  gone  on 
more  rapidly,  and  fretted  at  being  kept  back  by  Fa- 
tima.  So,  no  doubt,  did  his  rider,  for  presently,  in  her 
formal  way,  she  said : 

"If  monsieur  will  permit,  I  will  take  the  lead.  I 
think  my  pony  knows  the  path  better  and  can  show 
you  the  way." 

But  I  had  been  specially  warned  to  keep  ever  in  ad 
vance,  and  it  did  not  add  to  mademoiselle's  good  hu 
mor  that  I  was  compelled  to  refuse  her  the  pas.  I  was 
beginning  to  feel  that  my  task  was  a  thankless  one, 
and  the  picnic  on  Chouteau  's  Pond  did  not  look  to  me 
quite  so  alluring  as  it  had  looked  a  few  days  before. 
Perhaps  my  face  betrayed  my  feeling;  for  when  we 
reached  the  foot  of  the  incline  and  our  path  broadened 
out  as  it  turned  to  follow  the  windings  of  the  little 
river  toward  the  pond,  mademoiselle  rode  up  beside 
me,  and  with  a  very  pretty  air  indeed,  half  arch,  half 
shy,  wholly  sweet,  she  said : 

"I  pray  monsieur  will  not  think  me  ungrateful. 
I  do  not  forget  that  but  for  his  courtesy  I  could  not 
have  gone  to  my  fete." 

Then  she  added  roguishly : 

"But  I  will  make  amends.  I  will  introduce  you  to 
many  St.  Louis  belles,  the  fascinating  Pelagie  Chou 
teau,  Emilie  Gratiot,  who  dances  like  a  fairy,  and  Mar 
guerite  and  Marie  Papin,  the  beautiful  sisters.  And 
there  are  many  more  just  as  beautiful." 

I  bowed  gravely  : 

"I  thank  you,  mademoiselle.    I  have  heard  much  of 


66  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

the  beauty  of  the  St.  Louis  demoiselles,  and  have  de 
sired  much  to  meet  them.  You  remember  it  was 
largely  for  that  inducement  I  consented  to  undertake 
the  difficult  task  of  looking  after  your  ladyship." 

Pelagic  pouted. 

"Why  do  you  persist  in  calling  me  'your  lady 
ship  '  ?  I  am  only  mademoiselle. ' ' 

"Indeed!"  I  said,  with  affected  surprise:  "your 
manner  has  led  me  to  suppose  you  marquise  at  least, 
if  not  duehesse." 

Mademoiselle  reddened,  but  spoke  very  seriously 
and  very  sweetly 

"I  am  afraid  I  have  very  bad  manners,  and  a  very 
bad  temper.  But  I  intend  to  be  good  now,  and  to  re 
mind  me  I  give  you  permission  when  I  am  haughty  or 
disagreeable  to  call  me  comtesse." 

The  sycamores  and  cottonwoods  that  bordered  our 
path  had  lost  more  than  half  their  leaves,  and  the 
soft  haze  of  the  late  November  sun  filtering  through 
flecked  mademoiselle  with  pale  gold.  It  touched  her 
dark  hair  and  turned  it  to  burnished  bronze,  it 
brought  a  faint  rose  to  the  warm  white  of  her  cheek, 
and  made  little  golden  lights  dance  in  the  shadows  of 
her  eyes  uplifted  to  mine.  The  mysterious  fragrance 
of  late  autumn,  of  dying  leaves  and  bare  brown  earth, 
and  ripening  nuts  and  late  grapes  hanging  on  the 
vines,  and  luscious  persimmons  on  the  leafless  trees, 
rose  like  incense  to  my  nostrils  and  intoxicated  me.  I 
hardly  knew  how  I  answered  as  I  looked  deep  into  her 
shadowy  eyes,  and  I  was  almost  glad  that,  our  way 
crossing  the  little  river  by  a  steep  path  leading  down 


I  GO  TO  A  PICNIC  ON  CHOUTEAU'S  POND  67 

to  a  shallow  ford,  I  was  compelled  o-nce  more  to  take 
the  lead. 

Half-way  across  we  stopped  to  let  our  horses  dip 
their  noses  in  the  cool  water  dashing  merrily  over  the 
stones.  Fatima  only  played  with  it,  swashing  her 
muzzle  well,  and  flinging  the  bright  drops  over  made 
moiselle's  horse,  who  drank  steadily.  The  opposite 
bank  was  more  heavily  wooded,  and  I  became  aware, 
as  I  sat  idly  flecking  the  foam  from  Fatima 's  flanks 
with  my  riding-whip,  that  I  had  for  some  time  been 
hearing  a  whippoorwill  calling  and  its  mate  replying. 
The  woods  looked  dense  enough  to  be  the  haunts  of 
the  lonely  birds,  but,  nevertheless,  I  felt  uneasy  and 
began  to  listen— for  rarely,  indeed,  does  one  hear  a 
whippoorwill  in  the  daytime.  I  knew  birds  well, 
and  I  soon  became  convinced  that  these  whippoorwills 
were  like  none  I  had  ever  heard.  They  were  too  de 
liberate  in  their  calls  and  replies,  and  the  varying 
number  of  each  sounded  like  a  system  of  signals.  I 
began  to  wish  mademoiselle  had  not  been  so  tardy  in 
starting,  that  we  might  have  had  company  on  our 
way,  and  I  strained  my  ears  if  I  might  hear  anything 
of  Yorke,  who  should  be  not  far  behind. 

But  there  were  no  signs  of  Yorke;  and  mademoi 
selle's  horse  had  finished  drinking,  and  there  was  no 
excuse  for  our  delaying  longer.  I  would  not  alarm 
mademoiselle  with  my  suspicions,  yet  I  wanted  my 
firearms  ready  to  my  hand.  I  drew  my  pistol  from 
its  holster  and  laid  it  across  my  saddle-bow,  saying 
carelessly  that  if  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  that  whippoor 
will  in  the  woods  I  should  shoot  it  for  my  aunt  in 


68  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Paris,  who  was  making  a  collection  of  American 
birds. 

Mademoiselle  Pelagie  accepted  my  explanation  with 
out  comment,  and  I  led  the  way  up  the  steep  bank  op 
posite.  Once  up,  I  saw,  to  my  satisfaction,  that  the 
path  was  still  wide  enough  for  two.  I  put  mademoi 
selle  on  the  side  nearest  La  Petite  Riviere,  and  I  rode 
next  the  woods;  and  though  mademoiselle  had  sud 
denly  grown  talkative,  and  was  full  of  a  saucy  French 
wit,  I  fear  I  must  have  seemed  very  stupid  to  her,  for 
all  the  while  I  was  trying  to  keep  up  my  share  of 
repartee  and  quip  I  was  listening,  listening.  Made 
moiselle  noticed  at  last  that  I  was  somewhat  distrait. 

"Why  do  you  keep  your  eyes  turned  upon  the 
woods,  monsieur  ?  In  France  we  are  taught  that  it  is 
polite  to  look  at  a  lady  when  she  speaks." 

"Pardon,  mademoiselle,"  I  stammered.  "I  am 
looking  for  that  whippoorwill. ' ' 

"Your  apology  is  more  than  sufficient,  monsieur," 
in  her  haughtiest  tones.  ' '  There  will,  no  doubt,  be  no 
other  opportunity  so  suitable  for  adding  to  your 
aunt's  collection." 

I  had  kept  my  eyes  fixed  on  the  woods  even  while 
speaking  to  her,  not  daring  to  turn  them  away,  but  at 
her  tone  I  turned  quickly  toward  her. 

"Pardon,  mademoiselle  la  comtesse,"  I  began 
saucily,  but  went  on  seriously.  "Permit  me,  I  beg,  to 
seem  rude,  though  it  is  farthest  from  my  desire  to  ap 
pear  so.  It  is  more  than  the  whim  of  my  aunt  that  is 
at  stake.  Some  day  I  will  explain  to  you." 

Even  as  I  spoke  I  was  startled  by  a  sharp  crackle 
followed  by  a  stealthy  rustle,  as  if  some  one  had  inad- 


I  GO  TO  A  PICNIC  ON  CHOUTEAU'S  POND  69 

vertently  stepped  upon  a  dry  twig  and  had  then  glided 
quickly  away.  I  turned  at  once  to  the  woods,  and 
could  almost  have  sworn  I  caught  a  fleeting  glimpse 
of  a  copper-colored  hand  and  the  flash  of  a  rifle-barrel. 
But  as  I  gazed  longer  I  saw  nothing  but  the  dense 
foliage  of  the  low  scrub-oaks  that  grew  under  the  tall 
forest  trees,  and  I  hoped  I  was  mistaken. 

A  level  bit  of  road  stretched  ahead  of  us. 

"Will  you  race  with  me,  mademoiselle,  to  yonder 
tree?" 

The  quicker  we  got  to  Chouteau  's  Pond  the  better,  I 
thought,  and  the  faster  we  left  the  whippoorwills 
behind  the  better  also. 

"I  will  race  you  and  beat  you,"  she  said  gaily; 
"my  little  La  Bette  is  fleet  of  foot.  But  what  shall  be 
the  prize  ? ' ' 

"If  I  win/7  I  said  boldly,  "the  first  dance  to- 
day." 

I  thought  a  shadow  of  annoyance  passed  over  her 
face,  but  it  cleared  and  she  answered  slyly : 

"And  if  I  win,  I  claim  the  first  whippoorwill  you 
shoot ;  the  second  may  go  to  your  aunt. ' ' 

' '  Done ! "  I  said  grimly.    ' '  Are  we  off  ? " 

It  was  evident  that  fleet  as  La  Bette  might  be,  Fa- 
tima  was  far  fleeter.  But  not  for  worlds  would  I  have 
left  mademoiselle  behind;  so,  while  seeming  to  urge 
Fatima  forward,  I  was,  in  reality,  giving  her  the  con 
stant  little  touch  that  meant  a  check.  Still  I  was 
mindful  of  my  prize,  and  when  we  were  not  more 
than  twenty  yards  from  the  tree,  and  I  thought  we 
were  safe,  I  gave  Fatima  the  rein  and  passed  the  tree 
a  full  length  ahead. 


70  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

I  felt  a  little  more  comfortable  now,  for  I  thought 
if  I  had  really  seen  a  redskin  with  a  gun  lurking 
among  the  bushes,  we  must  have  left  him  well  behind, 
and  we  fell  into  a  comfortable  little  jog-trot,  side  by 
side  again.  Suddenly  I  heard  once  more  the  ominous 
crackle  of  a  dry  twig,  and  turning  quickly,  I  looked 
full  into  a  pair  of  dark  eyes  peering  through  the 
bushes.  I  hesitated  not  a  moment,  but  raising  my  pis 
tol,  leveled  it  straight  at  the  eyes,  and  would  have  fired 
but  that  a  voice  called  to  me  in  good  English : 

"Hold,  monsieur!    Do  not  fire!" 

And  from  behind  the  clump  of  bushes  sprang  a 
more  elaborately  dressed  man  than  any  I  had  yet  seen 
in  St.  Louis.  In  truth,  I  thought  him  too  foppishly 
arrayed  for  the  woods,  for  there  were  fine  ruffles  at 
wrist  and  knee,  and  beneath  his  leathern  doublet 
peeped  the  edges  of  a  satin  waistcoat,  canary-colored. 
His  hair  was  long  and  curled  and  tied  with  a  ribbon, 
but  it  was  not  powdered,  and  over  his  forehead  it  fell 
in  short,  black  curls  that  made  his  skin  look  very  white 
and  pink ;  indeed,  I  was  not  at  all  sure  but  the  pink  of 
his  cheeks  and  the  red  of  his  lips  were  more  of  art's 
cunning  than  nature's  mingling.  A  soft,  dark  mus 
tache  on  his  upper  lip,  carefully  trained  and  curled, 
proved  him  a  Parisian  of  the  latest  mode,  and  I  at 
once  felt  an  instinctive  dislike  and  distrust  of  him. 
I  had  never  seen  him  before,  but  I  was  not  at  all 
surprised  when  mademoiselle  addressed  him  as  Cheva 
lier  Le  Moyne  and  paid  me  the  compliment  of  present 
ing  him  to  me. 

There  was  just  a  little  disapproval  in  mademoiselle's 


- 

/>/      /- 


"For  the  chevalier  had  certainly  been  caught 
spying,  if  nothing  worse  " 


I  GO  TO  A  PICNIC  ON  CHOUTEAU'S  POND  71 

manner,  for  the  chevalier  had  certainly  been  caught 
spying,  if  nothing  worse ;  and  he  had  the  grace  to  be 
embarrassed,  and  hastened  to  make  his  apologies  in 
voluble  French,  which  he  seemed  to  take  for  granted  I 
did  not  understand. 

"I  missed  mademoiselle  from  the  fete,  and  I  saun 
tered  out  to  see  if  there  were  any  signs  of  her  ap 
proach.  Mademoiselle  must  know  that  it  is  no  fete  for 
me  when  the  queen  is  away,  and  the  day  is  triste  in 
deed  that  is  not  lighted  by  her  eyes.  I  was  not  sure 
it  was  mademoiselle  when  I  heard  voices,  and  so  I 
looked  through  the  bushes  to  see  before  addressing 
her." 

"You  spoke  just  in  time,"  mademoiselle  replied. 
"Monsieur  took  you  for  a  whippoorwill,  and  a  mo 
ment  more,"  with  an  arch  glance  at  me,  "he  might 
have  added  you  to  his  aunt's  collection." 

I  thought  at  first  my  lady  must  be  heartless  indeed 
to  make  a  jest  of  a  very  narrow  escape  from  death, 
but  as  I  glanced  at  her,  I  saw  little  tongues  of  flame 
leaping  in  and  out  of  her  cheeks,  and  a  great  pulse 
beating  in  her  throat,  and  I  knew  the  light  manner 
was  only  a  mask. 

I  watched  the  chevalier  narrowly  as  she  spoke  of 
the  whippoorwill,  and  I  saw  him  look  quickly  at  her 
with  a  startled  glance,  but  her  evident  innocence  re 
assured  him.  I  spoke  to  him  in  his  own  tongue,  partly 
to  show  him  I  understood  it  very  well  and  he  must 
be  careful  what  he  said  before  me,  and  partly  be 
cause  I  was  not  sure  he  understood  mine.  Indeed,  I 
had  many  times  been  thankful  that  my  French  was 


72  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

almost  as  natural  to  me  as  my  English,  for  in  this 
French-  and  Spanish-speaking  town  there  was  almost 
no  one  could  speak  my  tongue.  Once  in  a  great  while 
(but  not  often)  mademoiselle  attempted  it,  either  to 
practise  her  English  or  out  of  compliment  to  my  cap 
tain,  who  was  not  quite  so  fluent  with  his  French 
as  I.  (And  when  she  did,  her  pretty  broken  ac 
cents  made  our  rough  language  sweet  as  the  song  of 
birds.) 

" Monsieur  was  fortunate  to  speak  so  soon,"  I 
said.  "I  am  looking  for  whippoorwills,  and  I  took 
you  for  one.  A  moment  more  would  have  been  too 
late." 

But  as  I  spoke  I  looked  straight  into  his  eyes  with 
a  meaning  he  could  not  misunderstand.  His  glance 
fell,  and  a  deep  red  slowly  mounted  from  beneath 
the  artificial  pink  of  his  cheeks  and  spread  over  his 
face.  He  recovered  himself  in  a  moment,  however, 
and  answered  me  gaily : 

"Thanks,  monsieur,  for  a  narrow  escape.  'T  is  the 
luck  of  the  Le  Moynes.  Perhaps  you  know  the  motto 
of  our  house?— l By  hairbreadth  escapes  we  always 
win.'" 

And  this  time  he  looked  straight  into  my  eyes,  and 
conveyed  by  his  glance  a  haughty  challenge. 

I  bowed  a  mute  acceptance  of  it ;  and  mademoiselle, 
conscious  from  our  manner  we  were  not  particularly 
amiable  toward  each  other,  hastened  to  avert  any 
threatening  unpleasantness. 

"I  think  the  chevalier  will  excuse  us  if  we  hasten 
on.  We  are  already  late,  and  I  fear  we  will  keep  de 
jeuner  waiting." 


I  GO  TO  A  PICNIC  ON  CHOUTEAU'S  POND  73 

The  chevalier  bowed  low,  with  his  hand  on  his 
heart,  and  stepped  aside  to  allow  us  to  pass. 

It  was  but  a  five  minutes'  ride  till  we  left  the  wood 
land  path  and  the  merry  company  of  the  little  river 
and  stood  on  the  shores  of  Chouteau's  Pond.  I  had 
not  expected  to  find  such  a  beautiful  woodland  lake, 
and  at  my  exclamation  of  delighted  surprise,  made 
moiselle  looked  pleased  indeed. 

"We  are  proud  of  our  pond,  which  Mr.  Auguste 
Chouteau  has  made  for  us,"  she  said.  "Is  it  not  as 
beautiful  as  your  Pennsylvania  lakes  ?" 

"I  have  never  seen  a  more  beautiful !"  I  ejaculated 
fervently,  and  I  spoke  truly. 

"We  had  drawn  rein  on  a  point  of  high  land,  and  at 
our  feet  the  waters  of  the  little  river,  in  foaming  rap 
ids  and  tumbling  cascades,  stretched  up  to  the  foot  of 
a  high  dam,  where  the  waters  of  the  lake  poured  over 
in  a  silver  flood.  To  the  right,  embowered  in  trees, 
were  the  vine-covered  stone  towers  of  Chouteau's 
mill,  and  beyond,  gentle  grassy  slopes,  with  drooping 
trees  dipping  their  branches  in  the  water.  To  the 
left  rose  high  banks  with  overarching  foliage,  and 
then  for  a  mile  or  two  the  lake  wound  from  one  em 
bowered  cove  to  another,  till  it  was  lost  in  the  hazy 
distance.  Directly  below  us,  it  lay  a  glorious  topaz  in 
the  soft  November  sun,  for  which  the  dark  porphyry 
of  oaks,  the  tawny  gold  of  cottonwoods,  and  the  em 
erald  of  turf  and  darker  green  of  cedars  made  a  jew 
eled  setting  richer  and  more  harmonious  than  would 
have  been  the  flaming  scarlet  and  gold  of  our  Eastern 
woods.  On  the  bosom  of  the  little  lake  a  white  sail 
was  floating  lazily,  for  there  was  but  little  breeze,  and 


74  THE  ROSE   OF   OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

two  or  three  canoes  were  darting  swiftly  from  shore 
to  shore,  the  dip  of  their  paddles  breaking  the  lake 
to  flashing  silver. 

There  were  no  other  signs  of  life,  and  now  made 
moiselle  took  the  lead  and  we  followed  the  right  shore 
of  the  lake  behind  the  stone  mill,  along  the  shady, 
grassy  slopes,  until,  after  several  windings,  we  came 
out  on  a  little  cove  where  a  silvery  fountain  bubbled 
up  and  flowed  down  in  a  tiny  rivulet  to  the  lake. 
Around  the  fountain  was  soft  green  turf,  with  natu 
ral  seats  of  rock,  shaded  by  lofty  trees,  where  the  deep 
forest  came  down  to  the  shores  of  the  cove,  and  here 
we  found  our  party  of  merry  revelers.  Horses, ponies, 
and  oxen  were  all  tethered  deep  in  the  forest,  while 
young  men  and  maidens  were  running  to  and  fro, 
arranging  tempting  piles  of  broiled  fowl,  venison,  and 
game  pasties  on  the  white  cloth,  spread  on  the  green 
grass.  A  delicious  odor  of  coffee  came  from  a  great 
caldron,  hung  over  a  stone  fireplace  on  an  impro 
vised  crane,  and  two  young  men  were  mixing,  in  a 
great  bowl,  a  spicy  compound  of  spring  water,  ratafia, 
sweet  spices,  and  raspberry  wine. 

They  hailed  the  arrival  of  mademoiselle  with  de 
light,  and  young  Josef  Papin  came  running  up,  and 
took  hold  of  her  horse 's  bridle-rein,  and  led  her  to  the 
head  of  the  table,  where  they  had  made  a  throne  for 
the  queen  of  the  fete  out  of  a  flat  rock,  covered  with 
bright-colored  capotes,  and  wreathed  with  garlands  of 
bright-leaved  vines. 

He  claimed  it  his  due,  as  giver  of  the  feast,  to  sit  at 
her  right,  and  awarded  to  me,  as  a  courtesy  due  her 


I  GO  TO  A  PICNIC  ON  CHOUTEAU'S  POND  75 

escort,  the  seat  on  her  left.  In  the  merry  scramble  for 
places  that  followed  (there  was  nothing  rude  in  it: 
these  French  folk  are  gentle  and  courteous  in  their 
gayest  frolics)  the  chevalier  was  forgotten.  When  he 
came  in,  late  (somewhat  flushed,  as  if  he  might  have 
been  running  when  no  man  was  looking,  but  debonair 
and  smiling,  with  many  apologies) ,  there  was  no  place 
for  him  near  mademoiselle,  and  I  was  not  sorry. 
Neither,  I  confess,  did  he  seem  to  be,  for  he  devoted 
himself  pointedly  to  Mademoiselle  Chouteau,  as  fasci 
nating  a  little  coquette  as  mademoiselle  had  described 
her. 

Half-way  through  the  meal  the  chevalier  made  an 
excuse  for  going  for  a  cup  of  water  to  the  spring,  and, 
in  passing  behind  mademoiselle,  he  stopped  a  moment 
to  ask  her,  in  a  low  tone,  for  the  first  dance.  It  was 
not  so  low  but  that  I  overheard,  and  I  heard,  too,  the 
tone  of  regret  with  which  she  told  him  it  was  already 
promised.  I  might  have  thought  the  tone  only  a  trib 
ute  to  politeness  had  I  not  caught  her  glance,  which 
said  louder  than  any  words,  "I  had  much  rather  it 
were  you,"  and  I  said  to  myself,  "Either  mademoi 
selle  is  a  most  dangerous  coquette,  or  the  chevalier  has 
already  succeeded  in  at  least  winning  her  interest," 
and  for  a  moment  it  sprang  to  the  tip  of  my  hasty 
tongue  to  release  her  from  her  promise.  But  I  shut 
my  lips  firmly  before  the  words  were  out. 

* '  Ce  garcon-ca !    The  second,  then  ? ' ' 

I  turned  away  my  head  and  did  not  willingly  hear 
any  more,  but  I  could  not  quite  help  overhearing  the 
chevalier  once  again,  in  a  tone  intended  to  be  quite 


76  THE  EOSE  OF  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

cutting,  and  for  that  reason,  no  doubt,  more  dis 
tinct  : 

"If  mademoiselle's  dances  are  not  taken  for  the  en 
tire  afternoon,  perhaps  she  will  be  so  kind  as  to  say 
which  one  she  will  graciously  grant  me  T ' 

I  did  not  hear  her  reply ;  but  I  heard  his  joyful  re 
sponse  to  it : 

"A  thousand  thanks,  ma  belle  reine;  au  troisieme, 
done!" 

I  was  in  two  minds  through  the  rest  of  the  meal: 
should  I  hold  mademoiselle  to  her  promise,  which  was, 
evidently,  irksome  to  her,  or  should  I  free  her  from  it  1 
I  resolved,  finally,  that  the  dance  was  fairly  mine  and 
I  would  hold  her  to  it.  Yet  when  the  music  sounded 
and  the  line  was  forming  I  was  a  little  late  in  reach 
ing  her  side,  for  I  had  been  following  the  chevalier's 
example  and  getting  my  dances  promised  ahead,  and 
Mademoiselle  Chouteau  had  been  so  full  of  her  little 
French  coquetries  I  had  found  it  hard  to  get  away  in 
time  to  claim  mademoiselle's  hand.  I  found  her  tap 
ping  her  little  foot  impatiently,  and  an  ominous  line 
between  her  dark  eyes.  I  made  my  apologies  humbly, 
but  mademoiselle  was  coldly  scornful. 

"Had  I  known  monsieur  would  find  it  so  irksome 
to  keep  his  engagement  x  ^ould  have  released  him. 
There  were  others  who  would  have  appreciated  the 
honor,  since  it  is  my  duty  to  open  the  dance. ' ' 

"It  is  inexcusable,"  I  murmured,  "but  it  was  una 
voidable  ' ' ;  and  without  waiting  for  further  recrimi 
nations  I  led  her  to  the  head  of  the  line. 

I  had  never  seen  the  minuet  danced  with  more  grace 


I  GO  TO  A  PICNIC  ON  CHOUTEAU'S  POND  77 

and  spirit.  These  Frenchmen  have  winged  feet,  and 
though  I  knew  my  steps  well  and  had  not  thought  my 
self  particularly  awkward,  yet  now  it  seemed  to  me 
impossible,  with  my  great  size,  not  to  seem,  to  made 
moiselle  at  least,  a  clumsy  giant.  It  made  me  more  con 
scious  of  my  awkwardness  that  I  was  leading  the  line 
with  mademoiselle,  reine  de  la  fete,  and  a  perfect 
fairy  for  grace,  and  that,  opposite  us,  with  Mademoi 
selle  Chouteau,  was  the  chevalier,  full  of  Parisian  airs, 
which  looked  a  little  ridiculous  to  me,  but  were,  no 
doubt,  the  admiration  of  all  the  maidens. 

And  if  anything  could  have  made  me  more  clumsy 
it  was  the  accident  that  befell  me  in  the  sword-figure. 
It  fell  to  my  lot  to  cross  swords  with  the  chevalier,  and 
I  cannot  be  sure  that  he  did  it  wilfully,  yet  so  it 
seemed  to  me.  By  a  twist  of  his  wrist  he  loosened  my 
sword  from  its  grasp,  and  it  fell  clattering  to  the 
ground  at  the  very  feet  of  my  lady.  Had  I  been  ex 
pecting  anything  more  than  the  usual  crossing  of 
points  my  grasp  would  have  been  firmer,  and  I  really 
think  I  was  not  to  blame.  Yet  I  was  covered  with 
confusion,  and  as  I  stooped  to  pick  it  up,  necessarily 
delaying  the  progress  of  my  lady,  who  was  leading  her 
line  of  maidens  under  the  arch  of  swords,  I  glanced  at 
her  face,  expecting  nothing  less  for  my  gaucherie  than 
the  mocking  smile  I  had  learned  to  dread.  To  my 
amazement,  my  glance  was  met  with  the  sweetest  of 
smiles,  and  it  was  the  chevalier  who  winced  this 
time. 

"I  hope  monsieur  will  pardon  the  chevalier's  awk 
wardness,"  she  said;  "he  is,  no  doubt,  more  at  home 


78  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

in  a  Parisian  ball-room  than  at  a  rustic  dance  on  the 
turf." 

After  that,  you  may  be  sure,  I  carried  myself 
proudly,  and  so  elated  was  I  by  her  unexpected  sweet 
ness  that  I  lost  all  sense  of  awkwardness,  and  I  began 
to  hear  murmurs  of  admiration  that  I  knew  were  in 
tended  for  my  ears,  and  lent  wings  to  my  feet,  also. 

" A  handsome  pair!"  "What  grace!"  "He  car 
ries  his  head  like  a  grand  seigneur!"  and  Mademoi 
selle  Chouteau  was  wicked  enough,  as  we  crossed  in  the 
dance,  to  look  up  at  me  and  whisper  saucily : 

"I  die  with  impatience,  monsieur,  for  la  troisi- 
eme!" 


CHAPTER  VI 

WHIPPOORWILLS 
"Is  this  that  haughty,  gallant,  gay  Lothario?  " 

IT  was  in  the  third  dance,  in  the  middle  of  an  in 
tricate  figure  (and  Mademoiselle  Chouteau  was 
proving  herself  a  most  bewitching  partner),  that  I 
suddenly  discovered  that  neither  mademoiselle  nor  the 
chevalier  was  dancing;  nor  could  I  see  them  any 
where,  though  my  glance  shot  rapidly  into  every  leafy 
nook  and  corner. 

An  unreasoning  terror  seized  me,  and  with  all  my 
might  I  tried  to  think  what  I  could  do.  Should  I 
leave  my  partner  and  fly  in  pursuit,  as  I  longed  to  do, 
the  figure  would  be  broken  up,  and  should  my  fears 
prove  unfounded  I  could  never  again  hold  up  my  head 
-among  the  St.  Louis  maidens.  Yet  I  thought  if  I 
waited  until  the  dance  was  over  there  would  be  time 
for  the  worst  to  happen,  and  I  had  promised  not  to  let 
mademoiselle  out  of  my  sight.  Now  did  I  curse  my 
folly  (with  many  of  my  big  d-inventions)  that,  since 
I  had  come  to  the  picnic  solely  to  look  after  mademoi 
selle,  I  had  allowed  myself  to  make  any  engagement 
with  any  other  maiden,  however  bewitching. 

In  my  agony  of  indecision,  though  I  was  still  going 
79 


80  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

through  the  figure  in  a  dazed  fashion,  great  drops  of 
perspiration  started  out  on  my  brow.  At  that  mo 
ment  there  came  a  pause  in  the  dance,  while  the  figure 
was  changing,  and  above  the  babble  of  talk  that  broke 
forth  I  heard  the  distant  call  of  a  whippoorwill.  It 
was  enough.  I  bent  low  and  whispered  to  my  part 
ner  : 

"Mademoiselle,  do  you  think  you  could  invent  a 
pretext  by  which  we  could  both  be  excused  from  the 
dance  ?  Could  you  be  taken  suddenly  ill  ? " 

Mademoiselle  Chouteau  looked  up  at  me  quickly;  I 
think  for  a  moment  she  thought  I  wanted  to  get  her 
away  for  a  cozy  flirtation  in  a  quiet  little  nook,  such  as 
some  of  the  other  young  couples  seemed  to  be  enjoying. 
But  when  she  saw  my  anxious  face  she  spoke  quickly, 
with  the  prompt  resource  I  have  ever  noted  in  young 
maidens : 

"Certainly,  monsieur!  In  a  moment  you  will  see 
me  grow  quite  pale,  and  then  we  will  go  and  ask 
Gabriel  Cerre  and  Marguerite  Papin  to  take  our 
places." 

She  was  as  good  as  her  word :  in  a  moment  she  really 
seemed  to  me  to  turn  pale,  and  she  said,  quite  dis 
tinctly,  so  that  those  standing  near  could  hear : 

' '  I  am  very  tired,  monsieur ;  I  will  have  to  ask  you 
to  excuse  me  from  dancing.  Perhaps  we  can  persuade 
another  couple  to  take  our  places." 

I  think  Gabriel  Cerre  and  Mademoiselle  Papin  were 
a  little  loath  to  give  up  their  pleasant  chat,  but  on 
Mademoiselle  Chouteau 's  representing  that  the  dance 
would  be  broken  up,  and  she  was  really  not  able  to 


WHIPPOOEWILLS  81 

take  another  step,  they  very  amiably  consented  to  take 
our  places. 

Then  I  had  to  explain  to  Mademoiselle  Chouteau, 
very  hurriedly,  the  reason  for  my  strange  request,  and 
in  doing  so  I  was  compelled  to  confide  to  her  somewhat 
of  my  fears,  and  beg  her  to  be  silent  if  any  one  should 
notice  that  I  too  had  disappeared.  She  proved  a  good 
ally,  and,  on  my  expressing  my  perplexity  as  to  where 
to  look,  she  suddenly  remembered  that  she  had  seen 
mademoiselle  and  the  chevalier,  as  the  dance  was  be 
ginning,  enter  the  woodland  path  that  led  on  around 
the  lake  to  Rock  Spring  at  its  head. 

"A  favorite  resort  for  young  people,  and  espe 
cially,"  she  added  slyly,  "les  amants." 

The  dance  had  been  moving  rapidly  and  it  was  not 
yet  over;  they  could  not  be  so  far  away  but  that  I 
could  overtake  them,  and  I  felt  a  little  relieved.  Yet 
I  must  see  Mademoiselle  Chouteau  disposed  of  among 
her  friends ;  I  could  not  leave  her  discourteously,  and 
every  second  of  delay  fretted  me  greatly.  When  that 
was  accomplished,  I  caught  Yorke's  eye  (for  he  had 
arrived  very  shortly  after  us,  and  having  made  him 
self  generally  useful  at  the  dejeuner,  was  now  watch 
ing  the  dancers  with  grinning  delight) ,  and  motioned 
to  him  to  follow  me. 

I  slipped  into  the  woodland  path,  and  Yorke  did  not 
keep  me  waiting  long.  As  rapidly  as  possible  I  told 
him  my  suspicions,  and  bade  him  slip  into  the  woods 
where  the  horses  were  tethered  and  bring  his  own  horse 
and  Fatima  by  some  roundabout  way,  so  as  to  be  un 
seen,  and  follow  me  on  the  path  to  the  head  of  the  lake. 


82  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

It  was  a  comfort  to  feel  that  Yorke  would  not  be 
many  minutes  behind  me,  for  impatient  as  I  often  was 
with  his  pranks  and  his  eternal  grin,  I  knew  him  to  be 
a  good  fighter,  and  true  as  steel.  Still  more  of  a  com 
fort  was  it  to  know  Fatima  would  be  within  calling  of 
my  whistle,  for  I  knew  not  into  what  I  was  going,  and 
if  those  dark  forests  overhanging  the  cliffs  on  the  op 
posite  shore  of  the  lake  were  as  full  of  the  treacher 
ous  savages  as  the  frequent  call  of  the  whippoorwills 
had  led  me  to  think,  I  might  find  that  the  only  road 
to  safety  for  both  mademoiselle  and  myself  was  on 
Fatima 's  back. 

So  it  was  with  better  courage  (though  I  will  not 
deny  that  my  heart  was  beating  fast)  that  I  set  off 
at  a  round  pace  on  the  woodland  path  toward  the  head 
of  the  lake.  I  had  ever  an  eye  for  the  beauties  of 
nature,  and  an  ear  attuned  to  all  its  voices,  yea,  and  a 
nostril  for  its  sweet  odors,  and  engrossed  as  I  was 
(rushing  on  lest  I  might  be  too  late,  yet  dreading  every 
step  that  I  fall  into  some  ambush  of  whippoorwills ), 
I  still  could  not  but  note  how  softly  the  November  sun 
fell  through  the  half-bare  branches,  flecking  the  path 
with  shine  and  shadow;  how  glowing  cardinals  and 
flaming  orioles,  not  yet  started  south,  flitted  through 
the  trees  in  rollicking  sport ;  and  how  the  sweet  odor 
of  dying  leaves  mingled  with  the  soft  call  of  wood- 
thrushes.  The  cottonwoods  had  laid  down  a  path  of 
gold  for  me  to  walk  upon,  but,  fortunately,  it  had 
rained  the  night  before  and  the  leaves  were  still  damp 
and  so  did  not  rustle  to  my  tread. 

I  had  hurried  on  at  a  breathless  pace,  following  the 


WHIPPOORWILLS  83 

path  that  in  its  turn  followed  the  windings  of  the  lake 
for  nearly  a  mile,  when  suddenly  I  heard  voices  at 
no  great  distance  ahead  of  me.  I  stopped  for  a  mo 
ment,  my  heart  beating  so  fast  I  could  scarce  listen. 
Yes,  it  was  a  man's  voice  and  a  maiden's,  speaking  in 
low  tones  as  if  for  each  other's  ears  alone,  and  I  did 
not  doubt  it  was  mademoiselle  and  the  chevalier. 

Now  it  was  most  distasteful  to  me  to  think  of  play 
ing  eavesdropper,  and  I  was  of  half  a  mind  to  stop 
where  I  was  and  wait  until  they  had  finished  what 
they  had  to  say  and  were  ready  to  return.  I  would  at 
least  be  near  enough  at  hand  to  prevent  a  capture 
should  it  be  attempted.  But  as  I  waited,  mademoi 
selle's  voice  was  suddenly  raised,  and  I  heard  her  say 
in  a  tone  of  pain : 

' '  Do  not  make  me  distrust  my  guardian !  I  can  be 
lieve  no  wrong  of  him !  He  has  been  the  only  father 
I  have  known." 

I  caught  nothing  of  the  chevalier's  reply  but  the  two 
words  *  *  interested  motives ' ' ;  but  I  thought,  since  it 
was  evidently  no  tender  interchange  of  sentiment  to 
which  I  would  have  to  listen,  but  the  rascal  was  ma 
ligning  my  good  friend  Dr.  Saugrain,  it  was  my  duty 
to  listen  with  all  my  ears.  I  crept  forward  softly, 
fearing  lest  a  crackling  twig  or  a  dry  leaf  might  betray 
my  presence,  and  fearing,  too,  since  I  could  not  dis 
cover  whence  the  voices  came,  that  I  might  come  upon 
them  unawares  and  so  reveal  myself. 

Which  I  came  very  near  doing.  Another  step,  and 
I  would  have  stepped  over  the  brink  of  a  low  bluff 
which  encircled  a  cup-like  depression.  A  cluster  of 


84  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

tall  oaks  rose  from  the  center  of  the  little  glen  thus 
formed,  sheltering  a  silvery  fountain  gushing  from  a 
great  rock  and  then,  in  a  bright  rivulet,  dancing  mer 
rily  over  moss  and  stones  to  the  lake. 

This,  then,  was  Rock  Spring,  and  the  source  of 
Chouteau's  Pond!  A  sylvan  retreat  indeed  for  lov 
ers,  and  I  had  heard  it  was  much  frequented  by  them. 
A  fringe  of  crimson  sumac-bushes  screened  the  edge 
of  the  bluff  and  effectually  screened  me  from  two 
people  just  below  me.  I  liked  not  to  be  spying,  but 
I  felt  that  duty  and  honor  both,  and  my  pledged  word 
to  the  doctor,  demanded  that  I  keep  mademoiselle  in 
sight.  So  I  cautiously  leaned  forward  and  looked. 

Mademoiselle  was  seated  on  a  boulder  with  her  face 
turned  toward  me  and  uplifted  to  the  chevalier,  who 
was  standing  with  his  back  to  me,  looking  down  on 
her.  Her  dark  eyes  were  wide  and  startled,  full  of 
surprise  and  pain ;  I  was  not  sure  but  there  were  tears 
in  them.  Her  straight  brows  were  drawn  together  in 
a  deep  furrow,  and  the  scarlet  lips,  usually  so  like  a 
Cupid's  bow,  were  set  and  stern.  I  wondered  what  the 
chevalier  could  be  saying  in  that  low  voice  of  his  to 
move  her  so  deeply.  As  he  finished,  mademoiselle 
sprang  to  her  feet,  generous  indignation  in  her  flash 
ing  eyes  and  ringing  tones. 

"I  can  never  believe  it !  Either  I  have  no  such  pros 
pects,  or  he  has  some  good  reason  for  not  telling  me 
yet.  I  will  never  doubt  his  truth  and  honesty!" 

Then  I  heard  the  chevalier's  reply,  low  and  dis 
tinct  : 

"Mademoiselle,  your  friends  in  France  doubt  both 


WHIPPOORWILLS  85 

the  friends  of  your  father  and  mother.  They  have 
sent  me  here  to  find  you  and  bring  you  back  with  me 
to  your  rich  estates,  to  your  rank  and  position,  and 
to  the  friends  who  love  you.  But  they  know  well  Dr. 
Saugrain  will  never  let  go  his  hold  on  you,  until  he 
can  get  control  of  your  property  himself,  and  so  they 
have  instructed  me  to  use  all  caution  and  secrecy. 

'  *  In  the  woods  yonder,  on  the  other  side  of  the  lake, 
is  a  trusty  escort  to  ride  to  Cape  Girardeau,  where  a 
boat  is  waiting  to  take  you  to  New  Orleans.  In  New 
Orleans  is  a  ship  ready  to  sail  the  moment  mademoi 
selle  puts  her  foot  upon  its  deck,  and  in  a  little  more 
than  a  month  you  will  be  in  Paris,  among  friends  who 
will  receive  you  with  outstretched  arms,  surrounded 
by  every  luxury,  living  the  life  of  grande  dame  as  you 
ought  to  live,  among  the  great  nobles  where  you  right 
fully  belong,  and  not  in  this  rude,  rough  country 
among  Indians  and  boors.  And  mademoiselle  will 
permit  me  to  add,  there  is  no  great  lady  in  France  so 
fitted  by  nature  to  adorn  her  high  station  as  she.  She 
will  have  all  Paris  at  her  feet.  Come  with  me  now, 
mademoiselle!  There  is  no  time  to  be  lost!  Any 
moment  we  may  be  interrupted  and  it  may  be  too 
late." 

My  eyes  did  not  leave  mademoiselle's  face  through 
all  this  long  speech,  and  I  saw  her  expression  slowly 
change.  The  generous  indignation  was  still  there,  but 
I  saw  that  the  picture  that  he  presented  of  the  life 
that  awaited  her  in  Paris  began  to  fascinate  her.  She 
spoke  slowly  and  doubtfully : 

'  *  I  will  tell  Dr.  and  Madame  Saugrain  all  you  have 


86  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

told  me,  and  if  it  is  right,  they  will  let  me  go  with  you.. 
I  will  not  doubt  my  friends. ' ' 

The  villain  saw  that  he  was  gaining  ground: 

"They  are  not  your  friends!  They  are  your  bit 
terest  foes.  They  are  keeping  you  from  everything 
that  will  make  your  life  grand  and  beautiful,  with 
the  hope  of  their  own  gain  some  day.  They  will  never 
let  you  go!  If  home  and  Paris  and  friends  and 
wealth  and  rank  and  power  are  to  be  won  at  all,  it 
must  be  at  once.  Five  minutes  more  may  be  too  late. 
That  boy  [with  infinite  scorn]  may  have  discovered 
your  absence  and  come  to  seek  you. ' ' 

Suddenly  the  chevalier  dropped  on  one  knee,  his 
hand  on  his  heart.  I  turned  quickly  away  (for  I  would 
not  listen  to  what  I  feared  would  be  a  declaration  of 
love),  and,  as  I  turned,  I  saw  Yorke  coming  up  the 
path,  leading  the  two  horses,  who  were  picking  their 
way  as  cautiously  as  if  they  knew  the  occasion  de 
manded  the  utmost  secrecy.  I  motioned  to  Yorke  to 
leave  the  horses  where  they  were  (I  knew  they  were  so 
trained  they  would  stand  perfectly  still  without 
tying)  and  to  come  silently  to  me.  I  felt  that  the  mo 
ment  of  rescue  could  not  be  far  distant. 

He  had  crept  cautiously  up  just  as  the  chevalier 
ceased  speaking.  I  was  intent  on  noting  the  position 
of  the  horses  and  forming  a  plan  of  rescue,  and  so  did 
not  observe  Yorke,  or  I  might  have  prevented  what 
followed.  He  had  stolen  up  softly  behind  me,  and,  un 
conscious  that  he  was  on  the  edge  of  a  bluff,  had 
stepped  a  step  beyond  me.  Of  course  he  went  over  at 
once,  heels  over  head,  turning  a  complete  somersault, 


WHIPPOORWILLS  87 

and  alighted  erect,  astride  the  neck  of  the  kneeling 
chevalier. 

At  his  terrified  cry  I  turned  quickly,  just  in  time  to 
see  him  alight ;  and  if  it  had  been  a  time  for  laughing 
it  would  have  been  a  funny  sight  indeed:  the  look 
of  startled  terror  on  mademoiselle's  face  gradually 
changing  in  spite  of  herself  to  one  of  convulsive  mer 
riment;  the  chevalier,  his  nose  ground  in  the  dust, 
squirming  helplessly  and  sputtering  vigorously  in 
French;  and,  lastly,  the  big  black,  the  white  balls 
of  his  eyes  almost  starting  from  his  head  in  amaze 
ment  and  fright,  and  a  ceaseless  torrent  of  ejacula 
tions  pouring  through  his  white  teeth ! 

"  Oh  !  Oh,  Lordy !  Oh,  my  gracious !  Oh,  de  good 
Lord  !  Oh,  massy ! ' ' 

Yet  he  made  no  effort  to  rise,  and  I  began  to  suspect 
he  was  enjoying  the  situation,  for  the  more  vigorously 
the  Frenchman  sputtered  the  louder  the  negro  bel 
lowed. 

It  was  time  for  me  to  interpose,  but  I  wished  to 
avoid  the  appearance  of  having  been  spying  on  them, 
with  Yorke,  from  above,  otherwise  I  could  easily  have 
leaped  down  the  low  bluff.  Looking  around  hastily,  I 
discovered,  what  I  had  not  noted  before,  that  the 
main  path  led  around  the  foot  of  the  bluff  into  the 
little  glen  from  below.  I  had  followed  a  branch  of  it  in 
coming  to  the  top  of  the  bluff.  I  ran  quickly  down  to 
the  lower  entrance  of  the  glen,  but  there  I  stopped  a 
moment  to  assume  an  air  as  of  one  leisurely  strolling, 
I  did  not  pretend  to  see  the  group  until  I  was  well  into 
the  glen  where  I  could  also  be  seen.  Then  I  struck  an 


88  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

attitude  of  intense  surprise  for  mademoiselle's  benefit 
(who  by  this  time  had  caught  sight  of  me),  and  when 
I  had  sufficiently  recovered  from  the  surprise  for  ut 
terance,  I  spoke  to  Yorke  in  tones  of  stern  command : 

"What  are  you  doing,  sir,  on  monsieur's  back? 
Have  you  taken  him  for  a  horse  ?  Or  a  donkey  ?  Off, 
sir,  this  moment,  and  make  your  humble  apologies 
to  the  chevalier." 

Yorke  was  not  much  afraid  of  my  stern  tone.  Still 
yelling  bloody  murder,  he  contrived  a  most  audacious 
wink  with  the  eye  next  to  me,  but  he  tumbled  off 
slowly,  and  then  I  hastened  to  help  the  chevalier  to  his 
feet.  He  was  a  sorry  spectacle,  and  I  saw  mademoi 
selle's  look  of  suppressed  amusement  change  to  pity 
and  concern.  Blood  was  gushing  from  his  nose  all 
over  his  fine  clothes,  and  his  face  was  so  begrimed 
and  gory  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  guess  it  was 
the  dapper  Parisian. 

But  he  was  in  such  a  blind  rage  that  for  once  he 
ignored  his  clothes.  Stanching  the  blood  as  best  he 
could  with  his  flimsy  lace  handkerchief,  he  poured  out 
a  torrent  of  abuse  in  mingled  French  and  English,  on 
Yorke  and  on  me,  but  principally  on  me.  I  tried  to 
interpose  a  polite  word  of  regret,  but  he  would  not 
listen  to  me. 

'  *  You  air  a  sneak,  a  cowaird,  sir !  You  spy  on  made 
moiselle  and  me !  Cowair-r-r-d !  I  will  have  the  satisfac 
tion  !  Sacre  Dieu !  You  have  no  doubt  told  the  negro 
to  leap  upon  my  back  !  I  will  have  r-r-r-evenge  !" 

And  as  if  reminded  by  that  last  word,  he  turned  to 
mademoiselle  and  spoke  in  French : 


WHIPPOORWILLS  89 

' '  Fly  with  me  at  once,  mademoiselle !  You  will  not 
stay  to  be  at  the  mercy  of  a  sneaking  spy.  See !  I  will 
call  my  red  friends.  Do  not  be  afraid!  They  will 
carry  you  off,  but  I  will  be  with  you,  and  we  will  find 
horses  and  fly. ' ' 

And  without  waiting  for  an  answer  he  turned  and 
imitated  three  times  the  call  of  a  whippoorwill. 

I  knew  what  that  meant— that  in  a  moment  the 
Osages  would  be  upon  us ;  and  hardly  had  his  first  call 
left  his  lips  before  I  too  had  turned  and  uttered  the 
shrill  whistle  that  always  brought  Fatima  to  my  side. 

As  I  knew,  the  last  whippoorwill  call  had  not  died 
away  when  from  the  woods  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
lake,  silently,  swiftly  stole  first  one  dark  figure  and 
then  another,  until  at  least  a  dozen  savages,  armed  and 
painted,  were  bearing  down  upon  us  with  the  fleetness 
of  deer.  In  a  moment  more  they  would  be  upon  us, 
and  neither  Yorke  's  life  nor  mine  would  be  worth  the 
asking,  and,  what  was  far  harder  to  contemplate, 
mademoiselle  would  be  captive  in  their  hands. 

She  stood  for  a  moment  petrified  with  horror  at  the 
sight  of  the  swiftly  advancing  savages,  and  then  she 
turned  to  me  in  an  agony  of  entreaty, 

"Oh,  fly,  fly  at  once!"  she  said,  "you  and  your 
black  man,  before  it  is  too  late. ' ' 

I  turned  to  Yorke : 

"Go  as  mademoiselle  bids  you;  get  your  horse  and 
fly." 

Yorke  tried  to  remonstrate,  but  I  would  not  let  him 
open  his  lips. 

"No ;  you  will  only  hinder  me  now.    If  worse  comes 


90  THE  ROSE   OF   OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

to  worst,  you  can  at  least  bear  the  news.  Go  at  once  ! ' ' 
And  without  waiting  for  further  orders,  Yorke 
turned,  scrambled  up  the  face  of  the  bluff,  and  was 
off. 

"But  you  will  go,  too !"  she  cried,  as  I  turned  again 
to  her. 

"And  leave  you?" 

( '  Oh,  do  not  mind  me !  They  will  not  hurt  me  ! ' ' 
And  then,  as  I  stood  perfectly  still,  with  my  pistols 
ready,  but  with  no  intention  of  leaving  her  to  the 
tender  mercies  of  the  savages  and  the  savage  mercies 
of  the  chevalier,  she  grew  desperate,  grasping  my  arm 
and  trying  with  her  feeble  strength  to  push  me  to 
ward  safety. 

"I  implore  you,"  she  entreated,  "if  you  have  any 
feeling  of  friendship  for  me,  fly  before  it  is  too  late !" 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "I  stir  not  one  step  from 
this  spot  unless  you  go  with  me. ' ' 

"I  will  but  hinder  you,"  she  cried,  "and  prevent 
all  possibility  of  escape.  Oh,  do  not  stay  for  me  !" 

"Mademoiselle,"  said  the  chevalier,  who  had  been 
enjoying  this  scene,  with  no  attempt  at  concealing  his 
relish  for  it,  "go  with  monsieur,  since  he  desires  it." 

Even  as  he  spoke,  the  first  of  the  Osages  darted  into 
the  glen ;  the  others  were  close  at  his  heels ;  but  at  the 
same  moment  from  the  entrance  of  the  glen  nearer  to 
us  came  the  thunder  of  hoofs,  and  Fatima  was  at  my 
side,  her  eyes  flashing,  her  hoofs  pawing  the  earth,  her 
nostrils  snorting  with  rage :  for  well  she  guessed  that 
painted  savages  meant  danger  to  her  master. 

I  was  on  her  back  in  a  moment,  and,  stooping,  lifted 
mademoiselle  swiftly  to  the  crupper  in  front  of  me. 


WHIPPOORWILLS  91 

Holding  her  there  with  my  left  arm,  I  wheeled  Fatima 
with  the  one  word  of  command,  ' '  Go ! "  and  turning 
my  head  as  she  flew  over  the  rough  earth,  I  leveled 
my  pistol  at  the  chevalier. 

"Do  not  stir,  monsieur,  at  the  peril  of  your  life!" 
I  called  to  him,  and  kept  him  covered  as  we  flew.  I 
knew  the  savages  were  running  to  try  to  head  me  off, 
but  I  paid  no  attention  to  them  until,  rounding  a  great 
boulder,  the  chevalier  (his  face  ghastly  with  rage  and 
disappointed  revenge,  for  so  sudden  had  it  all  been  he 
had  had  no  time  even  to  draw  his  pistol  to  prevent  the 
rescue  until  too  late)  was  out  of  my  range,  as  we  were 
out  of  his.  Then,  turning  my  pistol  swiftly  on  the 
Osage  in  the  lead,— none  too  soon,  for  his  rifle  was  lev 
eled  at  us,— I  fired.  The  poor  fellow  fell  forward 
with  a  wild  yell  that  turned  my  heart  sick ;  yet  none 
the  less,  the  others  rushing  on  with  their  wild  whoops 
to  avenge  him,  I  drew  my  second  pistol  and  fired  once 
more. 

But  I  knew  not  with  what  result,  for  mademoiselle,, 
with  a  convulsive  shudder  and  a  look  of  mortal  woe,, 
cried  out : 

"You  have  killed  the  chevalier !" 

"No,  mademoiselle,"  I  answered  grimly;  "I  have 
killed  the  poor  whippoorwill  you  asked  me  for";  and 
then  had  all  I  could  do  without  paying  any  more  atten 
tion  to  the  savages,  for  mademoiselle  had  fainted  and 
lay  like  one  dead  on  my  arm,  her  white  face  upturned 
to  mine,  her  long  black  lashes  sweeping  the  marble 
cheeks,  and  the  dark  curls  falling  backward  from  the 
white  brow  and  floating  on  the  wind,  as  Fatima  flashed 
along  the  woodland  path  like  a  swallow  on  the  wing. 


CHAPTER  VII 

I    TWINE    CHRISTMAS   GREENS 
"  Woman 's  at  best  a  contradiction  still." 

YORKE  had  reached  the  picnic-ground  just  long 
enough  ahead  of  us  to  create  pandemonium. 
He  had  reported  both  mademoiselle  and  me  as  killed 
and  scalped  by  this  time,  and  a  band  of  a  hundred 
savages,  with  the  chevalier  at  their  head,  on  their  way 
to  the  picnic. 

The  massacre  of  1780  was  still  fresh  enough  in  the 
memory  of  St.  Louis  folk  to  make  this  seem  no  im 
probable  tale,  and  the  utmost  confusion  ensued.  Some 
of  the  young  men,  with  Josef  Papin  and  Gabriel  Cerre 
at  their  head,  were  for  going  at  once  to  our  rescue ;  but 
the  maidens  implored,  and  Yorke  averred  it  was  too 
late,  and  reported  the  savages  in  such  numbers  as 
would  make  such  an  undertaking  only  foolhardy. 
(And  by  this  you  must  not  judge  Yorke  a  villain  and 
a  coward;  he  would  have  been  the  first  to  volunteer 
and  the  loudest  to  urge  on  the  others,  but  he  had  heard 
Fatima's  hoofs  behind  him,  and  knew  we  were  safe, 
and,  rascal  that  he  was,  could  not  resist  his  practical 
joke  nor  his  negro  love  of  producing  a  great  effect.) 

Into  this  wild  pandemonium  of  women  screaming 
92 


I  TWINE   CHRISTMAS  GREENS  93 

unintelligible  cries  to  each  other  as  they  hastily  got 
together  their  belongings  and  packed  them  into  char- 
rettes  and  saddle-bags,  amid  sobbings  and  wailings, 
and  men  shouting  hoarsely  to  mustang  and  pony  as 
they  struggled  with  bit  and  bridle,  mademoiselle  and 
I  rode ;  and  their  joy  at  seeing  us  alive,  and  our  hair 
still  on  our  heads,  knew  no  bounds. 

I  told  them  the  true  state  of  the  case— that  there 
were  not  more  than  a  dozen  or  twenty  of  the  savages 
at  the  most,  and  I  hardly  thought  the  chevalier  would 
bring  them  down  upon  us.  Yet,  knowing  that  he  might 
be  in  a  mood  for  risking  everything  to  recapture  made 
moiselle,  I  recommended  that  the  men  form  themselves 
into  two  bands  to  ride  in  the  front  and  in  the  rear, 
with  the  maidens  between  the  two,  and  to  start  at  once. 
We  could  go  no  faster,  of  course,  than  the  charrettes 
could  go,  and  the  savages  could  easily  overtake  us  if 
they  desired;  but  I  did  not  believe  they  would  dare, 
for  our  numbers  were  greater  than  theirs,  and  the 
young  men  were  all  well  armed. 

Mademoiselle  had  recovered  from  her  fainting,  but 
was  still  white  and  weak.  And  because  I  did  not  be 
lieve  she  was  able  to  sit  La  Bette,  I  recommended  that 
she  ride  in  Josef  Papin's  charrette  with  Mademoiselle 
Chouteau  and  let  Josef  ride  her  horse.  We  two, 
young  Papin  and  I,  brought  up  the  rear;  and  I  did 
not  see  mademoiselle  again  except  once,  for  a  moment, 
when  we  were  crossing  La  Petite  Riviere,  and  I  rode 
up  by  her  side  to  see  that  the  charrette  went  steadily 
through  the  water.  Her  head  was  on  Mademoiselle 
Chouteau 's  shoulder,  who  was  supporting  her  with  her 


94  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

arm.  Her  eyes  were  closed,  and  Mademoiselle  Chou- 
teau  whispered  to  me,  *  *  She  is  asleep  ! ' '  but  at  that  she 
opened  her  eyes  quickly  and  looked  up  at  me.  She 
tried  to  smile,  but  I  think  the  terror  of  it  all  was  still 
strongly  with  her.  She  said : 

'  *  I  have  not  thanked  you,  monsieur ;  but  I  know  I 
owe  you  my  liberty,  if  not  my  life,  and  I  am  not  un 
grateful." 

It  was  very  sweetly  said,  but  there  was  a  horrible 
fear  at  my  heart  that  she  would  rather  have  been  cap 
tured  by  the  redskins,  and  gone  away  with  the  Cheva 
lier  Le  Moyne,  than  to  have  been  rescued  by  me. 

Just  at  the  stockade  we  met  a  party  of  horsemen. 
Dr.  Saugrain  and  my  captain  were  in  the  lead  with 
Black  Hawk,  who  had  reported  Red  Jean  with  a  band 
of  Osages  lurking  in  the  woods,  and  they  were  on  their 
way  to  clear  them  out,  lest  they  molest  the  picnic  or 
the  village.  Amid  a  babble  of  excitement,  every  one 
trying  to  talk  at  once,  our  tale  was  told.  And  as  Dr. 
Saugrain  and  my  captain  thought  it  was  best  to  go  on 
and  try  to  capture  the  chevalier  and  his  band,  and  as 
our  escort  was  no  longer  needed  for  the  maidens,  I 
turned  my  horse  and  rode  back  with  them  to  find  the 
chevalier. 

I  confess  it  would  have  done  me  good  to  bring  him 
in  a  captive,  but  I  was  doomed  to  disappointment.  We 
scoured  the  woods,  and  the  only  traces  we  found  of 
him  and  his  band  were  the  prints  of  horses'  hoofs 
going  south,  — a  dozen  horses,  I  should  think,— and, 
just  where  Rock  Spring  bubbles  up  in  a  silver  foun 
tain,  a  torn  and  bloody  lace  handkerchief.  I  gave  the 


I  TWINE  CHRISTMAS  GREENS  95 

good  doctor  a  full  account  of  the  conversation  I  had 
listened  to,  and  he  ground  his  teeth  with  rage  at  the 
chevalier's  duplicity.  He  was  much  touched  at  Pela- 
gie's  chivalrous  defense  of  him;  yet,  as  delicately  as  I 
could,  I  tried  to  tell  him  that  at  the  very  last  I  feared 
the  chevalier  had  succeeded  in  insinuating  some  seeds 
of  doubt  and  suspicion  in  mademoiselle's  mind.  The 
doctor  and  my  captain  both  agreed  that  it  was  time 
to  tell  Pelagic  the  full  truth  of  the  matter.  She 
should  know  all  about  herself  and  her  expectations, 
and  who  were  her  friends  and  who  her  foes. 

I  was  curious  to  see  what  effect  the  revelation  would 
have  upon  her ;  or  it  could  hardly  be  called  a  revela 
tion,  since  the  chevalier  had  already  revealed  it — 
rather  the  confirmation  of  his  tale.  But  in  that,  too,  I 
was  doomed  to  disappointment.  She  was  ill  for  sev 
eral  days  and  confined  to  her  room,— the  effect  of  the 
excitement  she  had  passed  through,— and  before  she 
was  well  enough  to  be  about  again,  my  captain  and  I 
had  set  off,  with  Black  Hawk  as  guide  and  Yorke  as 
factotum,  to  make  a  visit  to  Daniel  Boone  at  his  home 
on  the  Missouri  River. 

We  found  the  grand  old  man  as  happy  as  a  child  in 
the  beautiful  home  he  had  at  last  made  for  himself 
and  his  family  at  the  very  outposts  of  civilization. 
We  were  gone  four  weeks,  exploring  the  woods  and 
mountains  and  rolling  prairies  of  the  beautiful  coun 
try,  and  coming  home  on  a  great  flatboat  down  the 
swiftly  rolling  Missouri,  past  Fort  Bellefontaine, 
where  the  Missouri  empties  into  the  Mississippi  (where 
we  were  royally  entertained  by  the  Spanish  comman- 


96  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

dant),  and  so  at  last  by  the  Mississippi  back  to  St. 
Louis. 

I  found  myself  trembling  with  a  mingling  of  fear 
ful  and  pleasant  anticipations  as  I  rode  up  the  steep 
bluff  on  Fatima's  back,  and  we  took  the  Rue  de 
TEglise  to  Dr.  Saugrain's  house. 

It  was  the  day  before  Christmas,  and  I  had  not  re 
membered  it ;  but  as  we  passed  the  church  in  the  rear 
of  Auguste  Chouteau's  place,  through  the  open  doors 
we  could  see  young  men  and  maidens  winding 
long  garlands  of  Christmas  greens  and  festooning 
them  over  doors  and  windows,  while  shouts  of  merry 
laughter  floated  out  to  us.  I  was  for  drawing  rein 
and  going  in  to  help  with  the  trimming ;  but  my  cap 
tain  (who,  I  believe,  was  shy  of  the  maidens)  insisted 
we  must  first  pay  our  respects  to  our  host. 

The  little  doctor  met  us  at  the  gate  with  a  beaming 
face,  and  when  Narcisse  and  Yorke  had  led  away  our 
horses  we  entered  once  more  the  long,  low  room  we  had 
first  entered  nearly  two  months  before.  The  windows 
were  no  longer  open,  looking  out  into  cool  green  fo 
liage,  with  white  muslin  curtains  stirring  in  the 
breeze,  and  there  was  no  maiden  in  a  white  robe,  with 
the  blue  ribbon  of  a  guitar  across  her  shoulders,  sing 
ing  Creole  love-songs.  Instead,  crimson  damask  cur 
tains  were  falling  over  the  white  ones,  and  a  great  fire 
of  logs  was  blazing  in  one  end  of  the  room,  looking 
cozy  and  cheery  enough  on  this  crisp  December  day. 

Yet,  in  spite  of  its  coziness,  I  thought  it  had  a  dreary 
look.  Leon  was  lying  before  the  fire,  and  though  he 
looked  at  me  a  little  doubtfully,  as  he  slowly  rose  and 


I  TWINE  CHRISTMAS  GREENS  97 

shook  himself,  I  felt  a  rush  of  friendliness  toward 
him,  and  showed  it  so  plainly,  as  I  called  him  to  me, 
that  at  last  he  capitulated,  and  we  have  ever  since  been 
the  best  of  friends. 

Then  Madame  Saugrain  came  running  in,  flushed 
and  rosy  from  the  kitchen,  where  she  had  been  super 
intending  the  baking  of  Christmas  tarts  and  croque- 
cignolles,  and  bringing  with  her  appetizing  whiffs  of 
roasting  and  frying.  My  captain  laughingly  told  her 
that  the  good  smells  made  him  hungry. 

'  *  You  shall  come  and  see, ' '  she  said ;  and  led  us  into 
the  great  kitchen,  where,  on  tables  as  white  as  snow, 
were  piled  heaps  of  golden-brown  croquecignolles,  cut 
in  curious  patterns,  and  the  big  black  cook  was  drop- 
ing  still  more  into  the  kettle  of  boiling  fat,  and  bring 
ing  out  puffy  and  wondrously  shaped  birds  and  beasts. 
Narcisse,  on  his  knees  on  the  hearth,  was  turning  two 
great  fowls  suspended  before  the  fire,  from  which 
oozed  such  rich  and  savory  gravy  as  made  one  smack 
his  lips.  On  another  table  a  huge  venison  pasty  and 
tarts  and  cakes  of  many  kinds  were  temptingly  ar 
rayed,  and  madame's  pride  in  her  housewifely  prepa 
rations  for  the  Christmas  feasting  was  pretty  to  see. 
She  would  have  us  taste  her  croquecignolles  and  little 
cakes,  and  had  a  glass  of  gooseberry  wine  brought  out 
of  the  store-room  for  each  of  us,  and  we  drank  it 
standing  in  the  kitchen,  and  helping  ourselves  from 
the  pile  of  croquecignolles. 

But  kind  and  charming  as  was  madame,  and  tooth 
some  as  were  her  cakes,  and  much  as  her  gooseberry 
wine  tickled  our  palates,  I  was  yet  on  nettles  to  be 


98  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

gone  and  join  the  young  people  at  the  church. 
Whether  madame  guessed  it  or  whether  it  was  just 
one  of  her  kindly  thoughts,  she  said  in  her  motherly 
way: 

"But,  my  son,  you  should  be  at  the  church.  The 
maidens  will  be  vexed  with  me  if  I  keep  you  talking  to 
an  old  woman,  when  they  might  be  having  your  help 
with  the  wreaths. ' ' 

"If  you  think  they  need  me?"  and  I  tried  to  look  as 
if  only  a  stern  sense  of  duty  could  induce  me  to  go. 

Madame  Saugrain  laughed,  with  the  merry  twinkle 
in  her  eye  that  made  her  as  captivating  as  a  young 
maiden. 

"Allons  done!"  she  said.  "Quel  garcon!"  And 
'with  my  best  bow  to  her  and  a  salute  to  my  captain 
and  the  good  doctor,  I  whistled  to  Leon  to  accompany 
me  and  strode  quickly  down  the  road  toward  the  little 
church. 

But  as  I  neared  it  I  slackened  my  pace,  and  but  for 
very  shame  I  would  have  turned  and  fled  again  to  the 
shelter  of  madame 's  motherly  smile.  I  had  not  seen 
Mademoiselle  Pelagic  since  the  day  of  the  picnic,  and 
I  was  much  in  doubt  whether  she  regarded  me  as  her 
rescuer  to  be  esteemed  with  grateful  and  friendly  feel 
ing,  or  as  the  cause  of  the  loss  of  a  dear  friend,  perhaps 
a  lover.  I  felt  very  sure  I  would  be  able  to  tell  at  our 
first  meeting  in  which  light  I  was  held,  and,  screwing 
up  all  my  courage,  I  made  a  bold  dash  for  the  church 
door. 

Scarcely  had  my  shadow  darkened  the  doorway 
when  I  was  surrounded  by  an  eager  group,  saluting 


I  TWINE  CHRISTMAS  GREENS  99 

me  with  every  form  of  friendly  welcome  back  to  St. 
Louis ;  but  the  face  I  looked  for  was  not  among  them. 
Mademoiselle  Chouteau  and  Mademoiselle  Papin 
seized  me,  one  by  either  arm,  and  led  me  to  a  great 
pile  of  greens,  and  would  have  set  me  at  once  to  work 
in  tying  them  to  long  ropes.  But  I  begged  them  to 
permit  me  first  to  pay  my  respects  to  the  rest  of  my 
friends ;  for  over  in  a  dark  corner  I  had  seen  Pelagic 
at  work,  with  two  or  three  young  men  around  her, 
supplying  her  with  greens  for  her  nimble  fingers  to 
weave  into  garlands,  and  she  had  not  come  with  the 
others  to  greet  me.  I  thought  at  least  that  little  cour 
tesy  was  due  me,  for,  whether  she  liked  or  resented  my 
rescuing  her,  I  had  risked  much  in  the  doing  of  it. 

I  was  filled  with  bitterness  toward  her,  but  could 
have  no  more  kept  away  from  her  than  the  moth  from 
the  flame.  My  bitterness  now  gave  me  courage,  and  I 
sauntered  up  to  her  with  what  I  flattered  myself  was 
quite  as  grand  an  air  as  the  chevalier's  might  have 
been.  Hand  on  the  hilt  of  my  sword,  hat  doffed,  with 
its  plume  sweeping  the  ground,  I  bowed  low. 

"If  mademoiselle  has  not  forgotten  an  old  acquain 
tance,  will  she  permit  me  respectfully  to  salute  her  ? ' ' 

She  had  been  seated  on  a  low  seat  with  the  side  of 
her  face  toward  me,  and  may  or  may  not  have  been 
aware  of  my  approach.  As  I  spoke,  she  rose  quickly 
and  turned  toward  me,  the  rich  blood  rushing  over  her 
face  and  neck  for  a  minute,  and  receding  and  leaving 
her  almost  as  white  as  when  I  had  held  her  in  my 
arms  and  she  had  thought  the  chevalier  killed. 

She  did  not  speak,  but  she  held  out  her  hand,  and  I 


100  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

bowed  low  over  it,  and  barely  touched  it  with  my  lips. 
The  young  men  (among  whom  was  of  course  Josef 
Papin)  crowded  around  me  with  friendly  greetings, 
and  for  a  few  minutes  we  talked  fast,  they  asking  and 
I  answering  many  questions  about  Daniel  Boone  and 
our  adventures  in  the  far  West. 

I  did  not  look  at  mademoiselle  as  we  talked,  but— it 
is  a  way  I  have— I  saw  her  all  the  time.  I  think  it  must 
be  because  I  am  so  much  taller  than  most  people  that 
I  can  see  all  that  goes  on  around  me  (or,  perhaps 
more  truly,  beneath  me)  without  seeming  to  look.  I 
saw  mademoiselle  regard  me  with  a  strange  glance,  as 
if  she  were  looking  at  some  one  she  did  not  know,  and 
was  trying  to  explain  him  to  herself.  Then  she  sat 
down  and  quietly  went  on  with  her  work,  her  head 
bent,  and  not  looking  at  me  again. 

I  talked  on  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then  turned  to 
make  my  adieus  to  mademoiselle.  She  looked  up  at 
me  with  a  friendly  smile  and  I  saw,  what  I  had  not 
noticed  before,  that  she  was  paler  and  thinner  than 
when  I  had  seen  her  last,  and  there  was  a  look  in  her 
dark  eyes  as  of  hidden  trouble. 

"Will  you  not  stay  and  help  us,  monsieur?"  she 
said  in  that  voice  which,  from  the  first  time  I  had 
heard  it,  had  always  seemed  to  me  the  sweetest  in  the 
world.  Of  course  it  set  my  silly  pulses  to  beating 
faster,  but  I  answered  steadily  and  with  an  air  of  cold 
courtesy : 

"I  regret  that  I  cannot  accept  mademoiselle's  invi 
tation  ;  I  have  promised  my  services  elsewhere ' ' ;  and 
with  another  low  bow  I  turned  on  my  heel  and,  hold- 


I  TWINE  CHRISTMAS  OREENS  lOl 

ing  my  head  high,  went  back  to  weave  garlands  with 
Mademoiselle  Chouteau  and  Marguerite  Papin. 

And  because  I  was  so  big  and  they  were  so  petite, 
they  delighted  in  ordering  me  around  (and  I  delighted 
in  obeying),  and  they  made  me  mount  to  the  highest 
beams  to  suspend  garlands,  and  applauded  me  when 
I  arranged  them  to  suit  their  fancy,  and  laughed  at 
me  or  scolded  me  when  I  was  awkward  and  stupid, 
until  my  back  ached  and  my  heart  grew  light;  for  I 
forgot  for  a  time  that  mademoiselle,  for  whom  I  had 
risked  my  life,  had  not  even  cared  to  give  me  a 
friendly  welcome  back  to  St.  Louis. 

The  last  garland  was  fastened  in  its  place,  the  last 
stray  bit  of  evergreen  and  rubbish  swept  from  the 
doors,  the  church  garnished  and  beautiful  to  behold. 
There  was  the  noisy  bustle  of  preparing  for  departure 
and  the  calling  back  and  forth : 

"Be  sure  you  are  at  midnight  mass,  Gabriel." 
"  Au  revoir  at  midnight  mass,  Pelagic." 
"I  will  see  you  at  midnight  mass,  monsieur." 
And  for  me  there  was  a  moment  of  embarrassment. 
Was  it  my  duty  to  offer  myself  as  escort  to  any  of  the 
maidens?    For  though  the  hour  was  early  it  was  al 
ready  dark.     Or,  since  I  was  going  direct  to  made 
moiselle's  house,  would  I  be  expected  to  accompany 
her?     I  glanced  over  to  her  corner;  she  had  already 
left  the  church.    I  looked  through  the  open  doorway ; 
she  was  walking  down  the  Rue  de  1'Eglise  with  Josef 
Papin. 

"Mademoiselle  Chouteau,"  I  said,  "may  I  have  the 
pleasure  of  walking  home  with  you?" 


102  THE  &OSF  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

But  all'  the  way  "lip  the  Rue  de  1'Eglise  and  down 
the  steep  incline  of  the  Rue  Bonhomme,  and  up  the 
Rue  Royale  to  the  great  barred  gate  that  led  into  the 
stone-walled  inclosure  of  Pierre  Chouteau,  while 
Mademoiselle  Chouteau,  with  her  nimble  tongue,  was 
flitting  from  one  bit  of  village  gossip  to  another,  like 
a  butterfly  among  the  flowers,  I  was  saying  bitterly  to 
myself : 

"And  she  had  even  the  discourtesy  to  walk  away 
without  waiting  to  see  whether  the  guest  of  her  house 
was  going  home  or  not." 

It  was  a  long  mile  and  a  half  from  Pierre  Chou 
teau  's  house  to  Dr.  Saugrain's,  and  it  was  a  frosty 
December  evening.  It  was  only  five  o'clock,  but  the 
stars  were  out,  and  through  the  leafless  trees  I  could 
see  lights  twinkling  from  the  houses  as  I  passed. 
Faster  and  faster  I  walked,  as  my  thoughts  grew  more 
and  more  bitter  toward  mademoiselle,  and  by  the 
time  I  had  reached  the  cheery  living-room,  with  its 
blazing  lightwood  fire,  I  was  in  such  a  glow  from 
exercise  and  indignation  as  made  the  fire  all  un 
welcome. 

I  had  quite  made  up  my  mind,  on  my  long  walk, 
that  mademoiselle  should  find  me  as  cool  as  herself  ; 
and  through  the  evening  meal  I  scarce  looked  at  her. 
But  if  I  had  fancied  mademoiselle  suffering  from 
some  secret  trouble,  I  changed  my  mind  at  sup 
per.  She  sat  between  my  captain  and  her  guardian, 
and  was  in  such  merry  mood  that  she  had  my  cap 
tain  alternately  laughing  uproariously  at  her  wit,  and 
making  fine  speeches  about  her  beauty,  in  a  fashion 


I  TWINE  CHRISTMAS  GREENS  103 

that  quite  amazed  me,  for  I  had  ever  considered  him 
a  sober-minded  fellow,  above  all  such  light  ways. 

Nor  did  she  refrain  from  a  slight  stab  at  me  when 
ever  it  was  possible  to  get  it  in.  I  took  no  more  notice 
of  these  than  I  could  help,  yet  I  felt  my  cheeks,  al 
ready  burning  from  my  frosty  walk,  grow  hotter  and 
hotter,  until  the  very  tips  of  my  ears  were  on  fire ;  and 
I  felt  it  the  unkindest  cut  of  all  when  she  said,, 
with  her  pretty  accent  and  air  of  polite  condescen 
sion  to  a  very  young  boy : 

"  'T  is  a  long  walk  from  Mademoiselle  Chouteau's,. 
monsieur,  but  it  has  given  you  une  grande  couleur.. 
What  would  not  our  St.  Louis  belles  give  for  such 
roses !  ' ' 

I  turned  toward  her  just  long  enough  to  say- 
gravely,  "I  thank  you,  mademoiselle,"  and  then  re 
newed  at  once  my  conversation  with  madame.  But  I 
could  see  from  the  tail  of  my  eye  that  she  had  the 
grace  to  blush  also,  and  to  be  ashamed  of  her  petty 
persecutions,  for  she  left  me  to  myself  the  remainder 
of  the  meal. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

I   GO   TO   MIDNIGHT   MASS 

u  Tender-handed  stroke  a  nettle, 

And  it  stings  you  for  your  pains  ; 
Grasp  it  like  a  man  of  mettle, 
And  it  soft  as  silk  remains." 

IN  our  room,  making  ready  for  midnight  mass, 
which  all  the  family,  including  guests,  were  ex 
pected  to  attend,  my  captain  told  me  what  Dr.  Sau- 
grain  had  said  to  him  about  mademoiselle.  He  had 
told  her  fully  her  history  and  expectations  (save  only 
her  exact  rank  and  title,  which  he  had  thought  best 
still  to  withhold  from  her),  and  the  plans  of  her 
friends  for  her  future.  He  had  also  told  her  very 
plainly  that  he  had  suspected  the  chevalier  of  just 
such  an  attempt  at  her  capture  as  he  had  made,  and 
for  that  reason  had  been  so  unwilling  that  she  should 
go  to  Chouteau's  Pond. 

Mademoiselle  had  listened,  and  had  asked  him  many 
questions,  and  had  at  last  said  that  she  could  not 
doubt  the  truth  of  her  guardian,  but  she  thought  it 
possible  the  chevalier  was  honest  also,  and  misjudged 
Dr.  Saugrain  because  he  did  not  know  him.  The 
doctor  had  tried  to  convince  her  of  the  chevalier's  du 
plicity,  and  showed  her  the  letter  of  warning  from 

104 


I  GO  TO  MIDNIGHT  MASS  105 

Prance  concerning  him;  but  the  doctor  was  not  sure 
that  mademoiselle  was  convinced,  and  he  had  deter 
mined,  as  soon  as  safe  convoy  could  be  found,  to  send 
her  to  her  friends  in  Paris. 

In  the  meantime  mademoiselle  did  not  seem  happy, 
and  the  good  doctor  was  much  puzzled  to  know  whe 
ther  it  was,  as  he  hoped,  regret  at  leaving  his  wife 
and  himself,  who  had  been  father  and  mother  to  her, 
or,  as  he  feared,  a  secret  regret  for  the  chevalier,  and 
a  lurking  doubt  of  the  Saugrains. 

And  now  all  my  bitterness  toward  mademoiselle 
had  suddenly  vanished.  I  seemed  to  understand  fully 
the  state  of  mind  the  poor  girl  was  in,  and  there  was 
no  room  in  my  heart  for  anything  but  a  great  pity 
for  her.  The  remembrance  of  her  face  as  I  had  seen 
it  when  the  chevalier  was  talking  to  her,  the  generous 
indignation  changing  to  doubt,  and  then  the  gradual 
kindling  of  a  desire  for  the  life  depicted  to  her  by 
the  chevalier  (and,  perhaps,  a  touch  of  a  softer  emo 
tion  for  the  chevalier  himself),— -it  was  like  reading 
an  open  book,  and  I  said  to  myself : 

"Mademoiselle  is  torn  by  conflicting  emotions:  her 
love  for  her  friends  here  whom  she  is  to  leave,  and 
longing  for  the  life  in  Paris  which  may  soon  be  hers, 
and,  perhaps,  love  for  the  chevalier,  whom  she  feels 
she  ought  xo  despise.  What  does  it  matter  if  she  some 
times  vents  her  irritation  with  herself  upon  me,  whom 
she  regards  as  but  a  boy  ?  I  shall  not  resent  it ;  but 
if  I  find  a  chance  I  will  try  to  let  her  know  I  un 
derstand.  ' ' 

But  I  had  no  chance  on  the  way  to  mass.    Madame 


106  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

Saugrain  seemed  to  take  it  for  granted  that  Captain 
Clarke  and  the  doctor  would  walk  with  mademoiselle, 
and  I  was  her  peculiar  property ;  and  I  suppose  I  had 
given  her  the  right  to  think  so  by  always  pointedly 
devoting  myself  to  her. 

It  was  a  solemn  service  at  that  midnight  hour:  the 
bare  little  church  made  beautiful  with  our  garlands 
of  green,  and  the  twinkle  of  many  candles  around  the 
altar;  the  heads  bowed  in  prayer;  the  subdued  mur 
mur  of  voices  making  the  responses ;  the  swelling  note 
of  triumph  in  the  Gregorian  chant ;  and  then  coming 
out  under  the  quiet  stars  and  exchanging  greetings 
with  friend  and  neighbor. 

And  last  of  all  the  quiet  walk  home,  and,  to  my  sur 
prise,  I  was  walking  by  mademoiselle's  side.  I  was 
surprised,  for  it  was  not  of  my  arranging,  and  it  set 
my  blood  to  leaping  to  think  it  was  possibly  of  hers.  I 
made  up  my  mind  that  no  word  of  mine  should  mar 
the  friendliness  of  the  act,  and  I  plunged  quickly  into 
a  lively  discussion  of  the  ball  that  was  to  take  place  at 
Madame  Chouteau's  on  Christmas  evening.  But  she 
interrupted  me  almost  in  the  beginning,  and,  as  was 
her  habit  when  she  talked  with  me,  she  spoke  in 
French.  It  was  only  rarely  she  tried  her  English, 
though,  when  she  did,  it  was  with  such  a  witching 
grace  I  could  have  wished  it  oftener. 

"Monsieur,"  she  said,  "I  have  been  so  unmaidenly 
as  to  inflict  my  company  upon  you  for  the  walk  home 
when  you  had  not  solicited  it,  but  I  had  a  reason  for  so 
doing.  I  hope,"  as  if  a  sudden  thought  had  struck 
her,  "I  have  not  interfered  with  other  plans.  Had 
you  desired  to  escort  some  one  else  home  ? ' ' 


I  GO  TO  MIDNIGHT  MASS  10? 

' t  Certainly  not, ' '  I  said  coolly,  for  I  was  unaccount 
ably  irritated  by  the  suggestion.  "And  I  did  not  so 
licit  the  honor  of  being  your  escort  only  because  I  had 
reason  to  suppose  it  would  not  be  agreeable  to  you." 

'  *  It  was  for  that  I  am  here  without  an  invitation, ' ' 
she  answered  quickly.  "I  have  many  times  given  you 
occasion  to  think  me  entirely  without  manners.  I 
have  often  been  very  rude  to  you.  I  wish  to  ask  your 
pardon  for  my  silly  speeches  at  the  table,  and  for  all 
my  unamiability,  and  to  assure  you  I  have  not  forgot 
ten  your  great  services  to  me,  and  I  am  not  ungrate 
ful.  It  is  because  I  have  naturally  a  very  bad  temper  ; 
and  now  I  believe  I  am  not  quite  well,  I  am  so  irritable 
of  late." 

Several  times  I  had  tried  to  interrupt  her;  I  could 
not  bear  to  have  her  humiliate  herself  to  me  (for  I 
was  sure  it  must  be  a  humiliation  to  one  of  her  haughty 
temper).  But  she  would  not  listen  to  my  interrupt 
tions;  she  went  steadily  on  with  a  voice  so  low  and 
sweet  and  sad  it  quite  unmanned  me. 

Yet  because  I  thought  her  voice  trembled,  and  in 
the  moonlight  (for  the  late  moon  was  now  well  up  in 
the  sky)  I  was  sure  I  saw  something  bright  glistening 
on  her  long  lashes,  and  because  my  heart  was  torn 
for  her,  and  I  was  seized  with  a  horrible  fear  that  she 
might  weep,  and  I  would  not  know  what  to  do— for  all 
these  reasons  I  spoke  quickly  and  lightly : 

''Mademoiselle,  you  have  the  temper  of  an  angel, 
and  if  sometimes  you  lose  it,  I  fear  it  is  because  only 
an  angel  with  wings  could  be  patient  with  a  blunder 
ing  giant  like  me." 

"You    are    no    blunderer,    monsieur,"    she    said 


108  THE  ROSE  OF   OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

gravely;  "and  if  you  are  a  giant,  you  are  one  of  the 
good  kind  who  use  their  strength  and  their  courage  in 
rescuing  distressed  damsels.  I  hope  they  will  not  all 
requite  you  as  badly  as  I  have  done. ' ' 

"Mademoiselle,"— I  spoke  as  gravely  as  she  had 
spoken,— "I  hope  you  will  not  let  the  remembrance  of 
any  service  I  have  been  able  to  render  you  prove  a 
burden  to  you.  I  would  risk  much  more  in  your  ser 
vice,  if  the  occasion  offered,  than  I  risked  then,  and 
find  my  delight  in  so  doing. ' '  And  then  I  added :  "  I 
wish  you  would  promise  me  that  if  you  should  ever 
need  such  service  again— if  you  are  ever  in  peril  of 
any  kind,  and  I  am  in  reach— that  you  will  call  on 
me." 

Mademoiselle  hesitated  a  moment  before  she  re 
plied: 

"You  are  heaping  coals  of  fire  on  my  head,  mon 
sieur;  you  are  far  kinder  to  me  than  I  deserve,  but — 
I  promise." 

'  *  Thank  you,  mademoiselle ;  you  have  given  me  my 
reward,  and  if  you  were  ever  unamiable  to  me,  you 
have  fully  atoned.  Sometimes  I  think,  mademoiselle, ' ' 
I  went  on,  inwardly  trembling  but  determined,  "that 
you  did  not  esteem  it  so  great  a  service  that  I  ren 
dered  you — that  perhaps  you  had  rather  not  have  been 
rescued.  Am  I  wrong  ? ' ' 

I  was  looking  down  on  her  and  watching  her  nar 
rowly  as  I  spoke.  I  could  see,  even  by  the  uncertain 
light  of  the  moon,  that  she  went  suddenly  white,  and 
there  was  a  perceptible  pause  before  she  spoke. 

"I  hardly  think,  monsieur,  that  you  have  any  right 


I  GO  TO  MIDNIGHT  MASS  109 

to  ask  me  such  a  question,  but  I  am  going  to  answer 
your  question  by  another."  And  slowly  the  color 
crept  back  into  her  face,  and  grew  brighter  and 
brighter,  but  she  went  steadily  on.  "Did  you  over 
hear  what  the  Chevalier  Le  Moyne  was  saying  to  me 
in  the  glen?" 

It  was  my  time  to  wince.  Must  I  confess  to  eaves 
dropping?  It  was  hard  enough  to  do  that  under  any 
circumstances— but  she  might  think  I  had  listened  too 
to  the  chevalier's  wooing;  it  seemed  to  me  I  could  not 
so  outrage  her  sense  of  delicacy  as  to  let  her  think  that. 
I  had  been  reared  to  revere  the  truth,  but  for  once  I 
thought  it  not  wrong  to  chip  a  little  from  its  sharp 
edge. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "I  will  confess  to  you.  I 
missed  you  and  the  chevalier  from  the  dance.  I  had 
been  warned  that  the  chevalier  might  attempt  to  carry 
you  off,  and  I  had  given  my  word  not  to  let  you  out 
of  my  sight.  Of  course  I  went  at  once  in  search  of 
you,  and  because  I  believed  the  whippoorwills  we  had 
heard  in  the  woods  to  be  signal  of  savages,  I  bade 
Yorke  follow  me  with  the  horses.  I  heard  voices,  and 
in  following  them  came  to  the  top  of  the  bluff  encir 
cling  the  glen.  I  would  scorn  to  be  an  eavesdropper 
under  ordinary  circumstances,  but  a  chance  word 
caught  my  ear,  and  when  I  found  the  chevalier  was 
not  pleading  a  lover's  cause,  but  maligning  my  friend 
Dr.  Saugrain  to  the  maiden  he  loves  as  his  own 
daughter,  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  listen.  Your  rejection 
with  scorn  of  the  chevalier's  base  insinuation  against 
Dr.  Saugrain  delighted  my  heart,  but  when  I  found 


110  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

that  he  was  continuing  with  devilish  ingenuity  to  seek 
to  undermine  your  faith  in  your  guardian,  I  concluded 
it  was  time  for  me  to  interfere.  I  told  Yorke  to  be 
ready  with  the  horses,  and  myself  went  down  to  the 
entrance  of  the  glen,  intending  to  interrupt  the  cheva 
lier,  and  use  my  pledge  to  your  guardian  as  authority 
for  requesting  your  return.  Imagine  my  astonish 
ment  to  find  Yorke,  whom  I  had  left  in  charge  of  the 
horses,  astride  the  chevalier's  neck!  What  followed 
you  know,  and  now  you  know  what  I  heard  and  why 
I  listened.  Was  it  wrong  ? ' ' 

Mademoiselle  was  silent  for  a  minute.  I  think  she 
was  not  quite  sure  that  I  had  not  heard  more  than  I 
confessed  to,  but  she  was  willing  to  hope  I  had  not. 

"Monsieur,"  she  said,  "you  were  no  doubt  justified 
in  listening,  if  one  can  ever  be  justified  in  listening  to 
what  is  not  intended  for  his  ears.  But  you  have  used 
some  harsh  expressions  concerning  the  chevalier,  and 
I  think  it  is  possible  you  wrong  him,  even  as  he 
wronged  my  guardian.  I  do  not  for  one  moment  be 
lieve  that  my  guardian  has  had  any  but  the  best  of 
motives  in  keeping  from  me  all  knowledge  of  my  rank 
and  wealth ;  but  I  might  still  be  ignorant  of  it,  and  I 
know  not  for  how  much  longer,  if  the  chevalier  had 
not  revealed  it  to  me.  Dr.  Saugrain  corroborated  all 
that  he  has  said.  He  only  refuses  to  believe  that  the 
chevalier  was  sent  by  my  friends  to  take  me  back  to 
Paris.  He  accuses  him  of  being  in  a  plot  to  get  pos 
session  of  my  person  and  of  my  wealth.  Yet  that  is 
exactly  the  accusation  made  by  the  chevalier  against 
Dr.  Saugrain.  Dr.  Saugrain  admits  that  all  the 


I  GO  TO  MIDNIGHT  MASS  111 

chevalier  said  about  my  present  rank  and  future 
prospects  is  true.  Why  should  not  the  rest  be  true— 
that  he  had  been  sent  by  my  friends  to  bring  me  back 
to  Paris  ?  Can  you  not  see  that  he  does  not  necessarily 
seem  to  me  so  black  as  he  does  to  you  and  my  guar 
dian  ?  And  it  seems  a  hard  thing  to  me  that  he  should 
be  a  refugee  among  savages,  leaving  a  blackened  repu 
tation  behind  him  (for  there  is  no  one  in  St.  Louis 
who  does  not  vilify  him),  when  he  was  actuated  by 
most  chivalrous  motives,  however  mistaken  they 
might  be ;  for  he  thought  he  was  rescuing  a  wronged 
maiden  from  those  who  had  unlawful  possession  of 
her,  and  restoring  her  to  her  friends.  I  cannot  but 
feel  shame  and  regret  that  I  should  have  caused  the 
chevalier  so  great  a  journey,  at  such  cost  of  money 
and  fatigue,  in  vain,  and  that  he  may  be  even  now 
suffering  all  kinds  of  exposure  from  wild  savages,  if 
not  in  peril  of  his  life." 

Now  here  was  the  opportunity  I  had  desired  to  as 
sure  her  of  my  sympathy,  and  tell  her  that  I  under 
stood  the  difficulties  in  which  she  was  placed ;  but  my 
tongue  clove  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth.  When  I 
thought  of  that  villain  (for  whatever  mademoiselle 
might  think,  I  never  for  a  moment  doubted  his  vil 
lainy)  my  blood  boiled,  and,  instead,  I  blurted  out 
roughly : 

"Mademoiselle,  'tis  incomprehensible  to  me  how 
you  can  for  one  moment  give  the  word  of  such  a  man 
as  the  chevalier,  whom  you  have  known  so  short  a 
time,  equal  credence  with  the  word  of  such  a  man  as 
Dr.  Saugrain,  thorough  Christian  gentleman  in  every 


112  THE  ROSE   OF   OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

fiber  of  his  being,  and  your  lifelong  friend  and  bene 
factor,  your  more  than  father." 

But  I  had  spoken  beyond  my  right.  Mademoiselle 
turned  on  me  with  cold  fury : 

''Monsieur,  I  have  not  sought  this  interview  that 
you  should  teach  me  my  duty  to  my  guardian,  nor 
criticize  my  attitude  toward  the  chevalier.  I  am  sorry 
we  have  allowed  the  others  to  get  so  far  ahead  of  us, 
but  if  we  hasten  we  may  overtake  them  and  I  will  re 
lieve  you  from  further  attendance."  Whereupon  she 
started  ahead  at  a  round  pace. 

"Mademoiselle!"  I  called  to  her,  "I  entreat  you  to 
listen  to  me  for  a  moment, ' ' 

Mademoiselle  stopped  and  turned  toward  me,  and 
we  stood  facing  each  other  in  the  middle  of  the  road, 
alone  in  the  white  moonlight,  for  the  others  were  quite 
Out  of  sight  around  a  bend  in  the  road,  and  there  were 
no  houses  near.  Below  us  lay  the  Mississippi,  a  white 
flood  in  the  moonlight,  and  far  across  the  river  the 
twinkling  lights  of  Cahokia,  one  of  them,  no  doubt,  in 
Mr.  Gratiot's  house,  where  I  had  first  seen  mademoi 
selle.  Her  eyes  were  flashing  scorn  at  me  now,  as  they 
flashed  at  me  when  she  knelt  with  her  arms  around  the 
great  shaggy  brute,  and,  looking  up  in  my  face,  called 
me  "Bete!"  There  was  no  doubt  about  it,  made 
moiselle  could  be  a  little  fury  at  times,  and  no 
doubt  she  would  have  liked  to  call  me  once  more, 
"Bete!" 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "I  am  so  unhappy  as  to  be 
always  offending  you.  From  the  moment  when  I 
made  my  descent  of  Mr.  Gratiot's  staircase  on  the 


I  GO  TO  MIDNIGHT  MASS  113 

back  of  your  dog,  to  the  present  moment,  I  seem  to 
have  been  able  to  make  myself  only  ridiculous  or 
offensive  to  you !  I  beg  you  to  believe  that  it  is  a 
matter  of  the  deepest  regret  to  me  that  this  should  be 
so,  and  to  believe  that  to  offend  you  is  ever  farthest 
from  my  desire.  I  realize  that  I  was  over-zealous  for 
Dr.  Saugrain,  whom  I  greatly  admire  and  love,  and 
that  you  certainly  had  never  given  me  any  right  to 
take  such  interest  in  you  and  your  affairs  as  I  just 
now  displayed.  I  beg  you  to  believe  that  I  shall  never 
again  offend  in  like  manner,  mademoiselle  la  com- 
tesse." 

I  saw  her  face  slowly  change  from  its  expression  of 
scorn  to  that  same  wondering  look  I  had  noticed  in 
the  church,  as  if  she  were  regarding  some  one  she  did 
not  know  and  was  trying  to  understand.  As  T  uttered 
the  last  words,  "mademoiselle  la  comtesse,"  another 
and  a  swift  change  came  over  her.  Her  eyes  fell,  her 
head  drooped.  Still  standing  there  in  the  moonlight, 
she  suddenly  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and  sobs 
shook  her  slender  figure. 

''Mademoiselle,  mademoiselle!"  I  cried.  "I  beg,  I 
implore,  you  to  forgive  me.  I  am,  indeed,  a  brute!" 
And  as  she  continued  to  sob  drearily,  I  was  beside  my 
self.  What  could  I  do?  She  looked  so  like  a  little 
child,  and  I  was  so  big,  to  have  hurt  her  seemed  cruel 
and  shameful.  I  was  in  a  state  of  desperation.  I 
begged  her  and  implored  her  not  to  weep;  but  it 
seemed  to  me  she  only  sobbed  the  harder.  What  did 
one  do,  I  wondered,  with  a  weeping  maiden?  Had  it 
only  been  a  child  I  would  have  known,  for  I  had  ever 


114  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

a  way  with  children ;  but  before  a  weeping  maiden  I 
was  helpless. 

And  still  mademoiselle  sobbed  on,  her  sobs  coming 
faster  and  harder,  until,  in  a  paroxysm  of  grief  (or  I 
know  not  what),  she  flung  herself  upon  a  low  bank 
beside  the  road,  moaning  and  crying  aloud. 

Instantly  my  courage  returned  to  me.  Mademoi 
selle  was  acting  like  a  child ;  I  should  treat  her  as  one. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said  firmly,  "I  cannot  permit 
you  to  sit  upon  the  cold  ground.  I  am  very,  very  sorry 
for  you,  but  you  must  at  once  arise  and  dry  your 
eyes  and  tell  me  what  is  the  matter,  so  that  I  can  help 
you." 

Mademoiselle  but  wept  the  louder.  There  was  no 
help  for  it ;  at  the  risk  of  being  rude  I  must  stop  her 
weeping  and  make  her  rise  from  the  ground. 

"Mademoiselle!"  I  said  sternly,  "you  will  oblige 
me  by  rising  at  once  from  that  cold  ground  or  you 
will  compel  me  to  go  for  Madame  Saugrain  and  de 
liver  you  into  her  hands." 

For  a  second,  amazement  at  my  tone  of  authority 
kept  her  silent,  then  followed  a  storm  of  sobs  and 
tears  more  violent  than  before. 

"I  am  sorry,  mademoiselle,"  I  said,  in  a  tone  pur 
posely  cool  and  cutting  (though  it  was  my  own  heart 
I  stabbed  with  my  coldness),  "that  you  compel  me  to 
treat  you  comme  enfant.  I  shall  wait  one  minute,  and 
if  you  do  not  rise  from  the  ground  in  that  time  I  shall 
call  your  friends."  Then  I  drew  myself  up  tall  and 
stiff,  like  a  sentinel,  turned  my  back  on  mademoiselle, 
and  took  out  my  watch  to  note  the  time  by  the  moon 
beams. 


I  GO  TO  MIDNIGHT  MASS  115 

There  was  no  answer,  but  the  sobs  grew  less  until 
there  was  only  an  occasional  convulsive  catching  of 
the  breath.  Then  came  a  moment  of  quiet.  There 
were  neither  sobs  nor  moans.  Then  a  small  and  plain 
tive  voice  said  gently : 

"Monsieur,  I  will  be  good  now." 

I  turned  quickly.  Mademoiselle  was  starting  to  rise 
from  the  low  bank;  I  grasped  her  hands  and  helped 
her  to  her  feet  and  looked  down  upon  her.  Her 
face  was  flushed  with  weeping;  her  hood  had  fallen 
back  and  her  dark  curls  were  in  wild  disorder;  she 
might  have  been  a  beautiful  child  who  had  been 
naughty  but  was  now  subdued.  She  adjusted  her 
hood  and  her  curls  as  best  she  could,  and  then  walked 
quietly  along  beside  me.  We  neither  of  us  spoke,  and 
we  walked  rapidly  and  in  a  few  minutes  overtook  the 
others  and  came  up  to  the  house  together,  and  into  the 
big  living-room,  where  fresh  logs  piled  in  the  great 
chimney-place  were  blazing  and  crackling,  and  light 
ing  every  cranny  of  the  long  room. 

Mademoiselle  was  paler  than  usual,  but  otherwise 
there  were  no  signs  of  the  tempest  she  had  just  been 
through,  and  I  looked  at  her  with  wonder.  Madame 
Saugrain,  noticing  her  pallor,  and  thinking  she  was 
cold,  put  her  down  on  the  wooden  settle  in  the  chim 
ney-place  to  warm  by  the  glowing  fire,  and  bustled 
about  helping  Narcisse  to  bring  in  plates  of  croque- 
cignolles  and  cups  of  hot  mulled  gooseberry  wine, 
which  was  much  to  my  satisfaction,  for  the  frosty  air 
and  the  lateness  of  the  hour  had  put  a  keen  edge 
on  an  appetite  that  was  ever  ready  for  trencher 
service. 


116  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Now  the  settle  on  which  mademoiselle  sat  had  a 
high  back  and  was  turned  away  from  the  rest  of  us, 
so  that,  as  we  engaged  in  helping  Madame  Saugrain, 
we  might  easily  have  forgotten  the  little  figure  hidden 
away  upon  it.  Perhaps  the  others  did,  but  I  did  not. 
My  mind  hovered  around  it  all  the  time ;  but  I  was  di 
vided  between  a  desire  to  take  her  some  cake  and  wine, 
which  I  was  sure  would  do  her  good,  and  a  fear  of  my 
reception  if  I  did,  and  a  baser  fear  that  I  might 
thereby  lose  my  own  toothsome  cake  and  fragrant 
wine,  which  was  at  that  moment  making  most  potent 
appeals  to  my  inner  man  by  way  of  the  nostrils. 
"For,"  I  said  to  myself,  "I  know  the  ways  of  maid 
ens.  They  like  not  to  see  men  eat.  It  seems  in  their 
minds  a  greater  compliment  to  them  if  a  man  do  but 
nibble  and  sip  and  seem  to  be  careless  of  his  victuals 
and  drink,  which  I  maintain  is  a  great  mistake,  for  a 
good  trencherman  is  ever  a  good  lover,  and  a  man  to  be 
trusted  in  all  the  serious  business  of  life. ' ' 

To  ease  my  conscience  and  my  appetite  at  the  same 
time,  I  disposed  of  a  croquecignolle  and  my  steaming 
cup  of  wine  with  such  haste  that  the  one  stuck  in  my 
windpipe  and  liked  to  choke  me,  and  the  other  burnt 
my  mouth  well  and  might  as  well  have  been  boiling 
water  for  all  the  pleasure  my  palate  got  out  of  it. 
Then  I  pretended  to  suddenly  remember  mademoi 
selle,  and  carried  her  a  plate  of  cake  and  a  cup  of  wine 
with  fear  and  trembling. 

She  refused  them,  as  I  thought  she  would,  but 
looked  up  at  me  very  sweetly  and  asked  me  very  gently 
to  sit  down  beside  her  for  a  moment,  and  I  remember 


I  GO  TO  MIDNIGHT  MASS  117 

thinking  as  I  did  so  that  I  had  been  wise  to  secure  my 
cake  and  wine  first,  else  would  I  have  gone  hungry, 
since  I  could  scarce  have  the  face  to  eat  if  mademoi 
selle  would  not  eat  with  me.  But  I  still  thought  it 
would  do  her  good  to  have  at  least  a  little  of  the  wine, 
and,  remembering  how  well  she  had  yielded  to  disci 
pline  when  she  found  she  must,  I  set  the  wine  on  the 
hearth  where  it  would  keep  warm  for  further  use,  and 
then  turned  to  hear  what  she  had  to  say. 

"I  only  want  to  say  to  you,  Monsieur,  that  I  am 
very  much  ashamed  of  myself  this  evening,  but  I  am 
very  unhappy,  and  I  have  brooded  upon  my  unhappi- 
ness  until  I  have  become  nervous  and  irritable,  and,  as 
you  saw  to-night,  incapable  of  self-control.  Is  that  a 
sufficient  excuse  for  behaving  like  a  spoiled  child  ? ' ' 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "it  is  far  more  than  suffi 
cient,  but  I  am  more  distressed  than  I  can  tell  you 
that  you  should  be  so  unhappy.  If  you  would  but  tell 
me  the  cause  perhaps  I  could  help  you.  Is  it  anything 
you  can  tell  me?" 

"Oh,  no,  no,  no!"  said  Pelagie,  hastily,  and  then 
seeing  perhaps  by  my  face  that  it  hurt  me  that  she 
should  think  it  impossible  I  could  help  her,  she  added 
hesitatingly:  "That  is,  I  think  not.  Perhaps  it  might 
be  possible.  I  will  think  about  it  to-night  and  to 
morrow,  and  perhaps  at  Madame  Chouteau's  dance, 
if  I  have  an  opportunity,  I  may  tell  you.  I  believe," 
still  more  slowly,  "if  any  one  could  help  me,  you 
could." 

I  am  sure  I  thanked  her  more  with  my  eyes  than 
with  my  voice,  but  I  know  she  understood,  and  then, 


118  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

thinking  she  had  had  more  than  enough  of  serious  con 
verse  for  one  evening,  I  resumed  my  role  of  stern  dis 
ciplinarian  and  made  her  eat  a  little  of  the  cake  and 
drink  most  of  the  wine,  pretending  all  the  time  that 
she  was  a  naughty  child  to  be  sternly  dealt  with.  And 
I  could  see  that  the  warm  wine  and  the  foolish  play 
were  bringing  back  the  color  to  her  cheeks  and  the 
brightness  to  her  eyes  and  the  gay  ring  to  her  voice, 
which  pleased  me  greatly.  Then  my  captain  called 
to  me  that  it  was  high  time  to  be  saying  good  night  to 
the  ladies,  or  rather  good  morning,  and  I  rose  to  go, 
but  I  turned  first  and  leaned  over  the  back  of  the  tall 
settle : 

"Mademoiselle,  at  the  picnic  on  Chouteau's  Pond  I 
won  the  first  dance  with  you,  I  think  somewhat  against 
your  will.  If  I  should  ask  you  for  the  first  dance  to 
morrow  night,  would  you  give  it  to  me  willingly?" 

"Willingly,  Monsieur,"  with  a  glance  into  my  eyes 
(which  were  very  near  her  own)  by  far  the  sweetest 
I  had  yet  had  from  hers. 


CHAPTER  IX 

MADAME    CHOUTEAU'S   BALL 
"  The  uncertain  glory  of  an  April  day." 

WE  met  at  reveille  the  next  morning  at  nine— 
the  great  Christmas  feast  when  kinsfolk  all 
gather  at  the  house  of  the  head  of  the  family  and 
make  merry  together.  Then  I  saw  for  what  all  the 
mighty  preparations  of  the  day  before  were  intended. 
The  roasted  fowl  and  venison  pasty,  smoking  hot, 
were  flanked  by  tarts  and  cakes  and  jellies  and  cor 
dials  beyond  my  power  to  inventory,  for  I  had  ever 
less  of  a  talent  for  the  description  of  such  things  than 
for  making  away  with  them. 

It  was  a  goodly  feast,  and  we  lingered  at  table  for 
over  an  hour,  mingling  with  our  enjoyment  of  Madame 
Saugrain's  good  things  such  pleasant  converse  as 
Frenchmen  excel  in.  Dr.  Saugrain  himself  had  always 
something  wise  and  witty  to  say,  and  being  a  man  of 
deep  learning  and  much  science,  was  often,  also,  most 
instructive.  An  hour,  therefore,  passed  quickly 
enough,  and  I  was  glad  to  see  that  mademoiselle  was 
looking  more  as  she  had  looked  before  the  picnic  on 
Chouteau's  Pond  than  I  had  seen  her  since  my  return. 
But  I  had  chance  for  little  more  than  the  good  wishes 

119 


120  THE  EOSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

of  the  day  with  her,  for  the  company  was  large  and 
my  seat,  as  usual,  was  near  Madame  Saugrain,  at  the 
other  end  of  the  table  from  hers.  My  thoughts  had 
dwelt  much  upon  her  when  I  lay  on  my  bed  the  night 
before,  a  long  hour  ere  sleep  visited  my  eyelids.  I 
had  lived  over  the  events  of  the  evening,  and  of  the 
weeks  that  I  had  known  her,  and  she  had  seemed  to 
me  not  one,  but  many  maidens.  Haughty,  meek,  scorn 
ful,  merry,  mocking,  serious,  sad,  sweet— in  how 
many  moods  had  I  not  seen  her,  and  in  each  in  turn 
she  had  seemed  to  me  the  sweetest.  I  always  forgot, 
when  I  was  with  her,  that  she  was  a  great  lady  in 
Prance  and  destined  soon  to  return  to  her  home  land 
and  her  rightful  position.  I  never  could  think  of 
her  as  anything  but  Dr.  Saugrain 's  ward:  wilful, 
sweet,  and  capricious,  the  belle  of  St.  Louis,  the  toast 
of  the  young  men  and  the  idol  of  the  young  maidens. 
That  as  a  rule  she  had  treated  me  with  scorn  or  indif 
ference  did  not  in  the  least  detract  from  her  charms 
for  me,  but  the  unwonted  sweetness  of  the  night 
before  had  quite  gone  to  my  head,  and  I  was  hence 
forth  her  willing  slave. 

Prom  the  breakfast-table  we  separated ;  the  captain 
and  Dr.  Saugrain  going  to  the  doctor 's  laboratory, 
where  he  was  making  some  wonderful  experiments 
with  phosphorus,  by  which  one  might  at  any  moment 
obtain  a  light,  without  the  aid  of  tinder,  by  means  of 
little  sticks  of  wood  dipped  in  the  phosphorus !  *T  is 
not  to  be  wondered  at  that  many  people  think  Dr.  Sau 
grain  a  dealer  in  black  arts  when  he  can  accomplish 
such  supernatural  results  by  the  aid  of  science ! 


MADAME  CHOUTEAU'S  BALL  121 

As  for  me,  I  had  an  engagement  with  Josef  Papin 
and  Gabriel  Cerre  and  some  other  young  men  to  go 
duck-shooting  on  the  Maramec,  a  good  day's  tramp, 
and  we  did  not  expect  to  be  back  until  nearly  time  for 
Madame  Chouteau's  dance.  I  think  the  matrons 
and  the  maidens  expected  to  spend  the  day  in  going 
to  church  and  in  making  visits,  which  seemed  to  me 
a  dull  way  to  spend  Christmas,  but  no  doubt  they 
liked  it. 

It  was  a  grand  day  for  shooting,  the  air  so  clear  and 
dry,  just  frosty  enough  to  send  the  blood  leaping 
through  our  bodies;  and  we  came  home  with  a  great 
string  of  prairie-chicken  and  duck  and  partridge- 
enough  to  supply  the  village  for  a  week.  We  were  a 
little  later  than  we  had  intended  in  getting  home, 
and  tired  enough  to  go  right  to  bed,  but  I,  for  one, 
would  not  have  missed  this  my  first  opportunity  to 
appear  in  grand  costume  du  bal,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
joys  of  the  dance. 

There  was  a  hot  supper  waiting  for  me,  which 
rested  me  wonderfully;  and  then,  with  Yorke's  help, 
I  had  a  quick  bath  and  was  into  my  ball  dress  in  a 
shorter  time  than  I  had  dared  to  hope.  Yorke  had 
laid  out  my  dress  for  me  and  looked  to  the  lace  ruf 
fles  and  lacers,  so  that  I  had  only  to  jump  into  it  and 
let  him  tie  me  up,  and  I  was  ready. 

I  was  glad  that  I  had  such  a  becoming  costume 
with  me,  for,  without  being  unduly  vain,  I  knew 
that  the  rich  plum-colored  coat  and  breeches  and  the 
lilac  satin  waistcoat  with  fine  lace  frills  and  a  touch 
of  gold  here  and  there  were  a  good  offset  to  my  yel- 


122  THE   ROSE   OF  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

low  hair  and  rosy  cheeks,  which,  much  as  I  despised 
them  at  times,  I  was  yet  at  other  times  well  satisfied  to 
endure.  I  liked,  too,  the  looks  of  my  leg  in  a  fine  white 
silk  stocking  and  low  pumps  with  shoe-  and  knee- 
buckles  of  brilliants,  and  was  not  above  being  proud 
of  a  well-turned  calf  and  ankle. 

Madame  and  mademoiselle  had  gone  on  ahead  in 
a  charrette,  as  better  suited  to  their  costumes  du  bal 
than  horseback-riding,  and  Dr.  Saugrain  and  Captain 
Clarke  had  ridden  by  their  side,  leaving  me  to  finish 
dressing  and  hurry  after  them  as  soon  as  I  could. 

A  mad  haste  seized  me  before  I  reached  Madame 
Chouteau's  lest  the  first  dance  should  be  over  and  I 
lose  my  promised  honor.  I  reflected,  too,  that  made 
moiselle  would  think  me  always  tardy  in  keeping  my 
engagements  with  her,  and  the  thought  lent  spurs  to 
my  movements.  I  entered  the  great  ball-room  in 
breathless  haste.  The  walnut  was  waxed  to  the  last 
perfection  of  slipperiness,  and  not  taking  heed  to 
my  steps,  my  feet  slipped  up.  But  I  caught  myself 
from  falling,  though  not  without  as  many  gyrations 
of  long  arms  and  long  legs  as  a  Dutch  windmill  might 
accomplish  on  a  windy  day. 

My  remarkable  entry  was  greeted  with  a  shout  of 
laughter  by  the  young  men  and  maidens,  who  by  this 
time  had  come  to  know  me  well.  I  did  not  mind  that, 
but  I  looked  hastily  toward  Mademoiselle  Pelagie,  and 
there,  between  the  straight  black  brows,  was  the  omi 
nous  little  frown  I  had  learned  to  dread.  What 
availed  my  beautiful  plum-colored  velvets  and  laven 
der  satin,  lace,  and  buckles,  if  I  only  succeeded  in 


MADAME   CHOUTEAU'S  BALL  123 

being  an  awkward  hobbledehoy  ?  I  must  retrieve  my 
self! 

I  drew  myself  up  in  my  grandest  manner  and 
walked  up  to  Madame  Chouteau,  sitting  in  state  in  a 
great  arm-chair  near  the  chimney-piece.  With  my 
courtliest  bow,  in  my  best  French,  I  made  my  com 
pliments  to  her  as  if  I  had  been  accustomed  to  enter 
ing  rooms  in  no  other  fashion.  Then  I  made  the  cir 
cuit  of  the  room,  talking  for  a  minute  or  two  to  each 
of  my  acquaintances,  lingering  longest  by  Mademoi 
selle  Chouteau,  whose  eyes  were  dancing  with  mirth, 
and  so  round  the  circle,  head  thrown  back  (but  being 
careful  of  my  steps),  until  I  came  to  mademoiselle. 
There  I  stopped,  with  another  low  bow.  Looking  down 
on  her,  I  was  glad  to  see  the  frown  was  no  longer  there, 
but  a  look  of  something  far  pleasanter,  almost  like 
admiration,  had  taken  its  place. 

Of  course  she  was  surrounded  by  young  men— that 
Aid  not  displease  me :  I  liked  to  see  her  admired.  She 
was  wearing  the  same  gown  she  had  worn  at  Mr. 
Gratiot's  the  first  time  I  saw  her,  and  I  said  to  my 
self:  "  I  know  not  what  her  rank  in  France  may  be, 
— comtesse,  marquise,  or  duchesse,— but  I  know  she 
looks  every  inch  la  reine."  I  think  my  pride  in  her 
lent  stateliness  to  my  steps  as  I  led  her  out  in  the 
dance.  I  know  that  for  her  sake  I  wished  to  look  as 
much  le  roi  as  it  was  in  me  to  look. 

But  there  was  no  chance  during  the  minuet  for 
mademoiselle's  promised  confidence,  and  as  the  even 
ing  went  on  I  began  to  think  there  would  be  none  at 
all.  There  had  been  the  old  folks'  minuet,  when  Dr. 


124  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Saugrain  led  out  Madame  Chouteau  on  the  floor,  and 
his  plump  little  calves,  silk-robed,  had  twinkled  be 
side  her  stately  steps  in  wondrous  fashion.  And  then 
had  come  supper, — a  bounteous  feast  of  delicate  cakes 
and  sweetmeats  and  rich  salads  and  cold  fowl,  with 
gooseberry  wine  and  a  sweet  punch  brewed  from  New 
Orleans  ratafia,— and  I  feared  that  would  put  an  end 
to  the  festivities,  and  still  there  had  been  no  chance. 

But  't  is  a  wonderful  thing  on  what  a  small  matter 
great  matters  will  sometimes  turn !  Though  there  may 
be  those  who  would  think  it  no  great  matter  that  I 
should  find  myself  riding  home  in  the  moonlight  with 
mademoiselle  on  a  pillion  behind  me,  and  Patima 
going  at  so  slow  a  pace  as  put  her  in  a  constant  fret 
of  wonder  as  to  what  could  be  the  reason  that  her  mas 
ter  kept  her  down  so,  and  mademoiselle  telling  me  her 
story  in  a  low  tone  (for  being  so  near  my  ear  she  did 
not  have  to  raise  her  voice) ,  and  sometimes  trembling 
so  much  that  the  little  arm  which  was  pretending  to 
circle  my  great  waist  to  hold  on  by  (but  which  only 
reached  by  uttermost  stretch  a  quarter-way  around) 
would  almost  lose  its  grip. 

It  seemed  a  great  matter  to  me,  and  it  happened  in 
this  wise :  I  had  barely  spoken  to  mademoiselle  since 
our  dance,  when  just  as  I  was  getting  a  glass  of  goose 
berry  wine  and  a  croquecignolle  for  Mademoiselle 
Chouteau  (she  said  she  had  no  stomach  for  salads  and 
meats  at  a  dance)  mademoiselle  came  up  to  me,  in 
quiring  most  anxiously  had  I  seen  her  capote.  'T  was 
of  heavy  silk,  and  lined  with  the  skins  of  beavers,  and 
would  have  been  very  costly  in  Philadelphia,  and 


MADAME  CHOUTEAU'S  BALL  125 

handsome  enough  for  our  greatest  dames.  I  had  not 
seen  it,  but  offered  to  go  at  once  in  search  of  it  as  soon 
as  I  had  carried  the  wine  and  croquecignolle  to  Made 
moiselle  Chouteau. 

We  hunted  together  in  all  the  most  impossible 
places,  and  mademoiselle  growing  every  moment  more 
anxious,  because  she  was  keeping  madame  and  Dr. 
Saugrain  waiting.  They  were  tired  and  longing  to 
get  home,  and  I  said,  half  in  jest : 

1  'Had  I  a  pillion,  Mademoiselle,  we  would  tell  ma- 
dame  not  to  wait,  and  when  we  had  found  your  capote 
I  could  bring  you  home  with  me  on  Fatima." 

But  mademoiselle  answered  quickly : 

" Would  you  be  so  good,  Monsieur?  I  doubt  not 
Madame  Chouteau  would  lend  us  a  pillion,  and  it 
would  greatly  relieve  my  anxiety  in  keeping  madame 
waiting. ' ' 

I  hardly  knew  whether  I  felt  more  joy  or  conster 
nation,  but  mademoiselle  gave  me  no  time  to  decide 
which,  but  hurried  me  with  her  to  persuade  her  guar 
dians  not  to  wait.  I  thought  the  arrangement  did  not 
altogether  please  the  doctor,  and  he  demurred  greatly ; 
but  his  good  wife,  who  never  differed  with  mademoi 
selle  (whether  through  being  over-fond  or  a  little  in 
awe,  I  am  not  sure),  persuaded  him  that  it  was  all 
right  and  quite  the  best  way. 

And  five  minutes  after  the  charrette,  with  my  cap 
tain  and  the  doctor  accompanying  it,  drove  out  of 
Madame  Chouteau 's  gate,  the  capote  was  found, 
mademoiselle  herself  suddenly  remembering  where  she 
had  laid  it. 


126  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

I  have  never  felt  quite  sure  that  mademoiselle  had 
not  known  all  the  time  where  it  was.  But  I  admired  so 
much  the  cleverness  that  could  contrive  to  accomplish 
her  end  (for  myself,  I  could  never  plan  or  scheme, 
though  quick  enough  to  act  if  occasion  presented)  that 
I  forgave  the  little  deceit,  if  there  was  any— maid 
ens  not  being  like  men,  who  must  be  true  and  straight 
forward  in  even  the  smallest  matters,  lest  their  honor 
be  attainted. 

But  when  I  had  mounted  Fatima  and  lifted  made 
moiselle  to  her  pillion,  and  felt  her  little  arm  steal 
round  my  great  waist  (as  it  needs  must,  to  keep  her 
from  falling) ,  my  stupid  heart  began  to  beat  so  fast 
and  to  thump  so  hard  against  my  waistcoat  I  feared 
the  buttons  would  give  way,  and  was  greatly  shamed 
lest  mademoiselle  should  feel  it  thumping  and  guess 
the  cause.  Yet  presently  Fatima,  not  being  accustomed 
to  petticoats  falling  over  her  flanks,  pranced  on  two 
feet  in  such  a  fashion  as  to  cause  mademoiselle  to 
clutch  me  convulsively  with  both  arms,  whereupon  I 
found  myself  suddenly  calm  and  master  of  the  situa 
tion.  It  was  the  work  of  a  minute  or  two  to  re 
duce  Fatima  to  order  and  make  her  understand 
that  petticoats  and  a  pillion  were  entirely  proper. 
That  being  accomplished,  and  Fatima  made  to  under 
stand  also  that  she  was  to  go  at  her  slowest  pace,  I 
was  ready  to  hear  mademoiselle's  story,  which  finally 
she  began: 

"Monsieur,  I  feel  that  I  must  take  advantage  of 
this  opportunity  so  providentially  offered  me.  I 
had  not  thought  to  confide  in  any  one,  but  I  am  in 


MADAME  CHOUTEAU'S  BALL  127 

sore  need  of  advice,  and  I  know  not  where  else  to 
turn." 

"I  know  not,  Mademoiselle,"  I  answered,  "whether 
I  am  good  at  giving  advice.  I  had  rather  you  would 
ask  me  to  do  for  you  some  perilous  and  arduous  ser 
vice.  But  if  it  is  advice  you  need  most,  then  such  as 
I  can  I  will  give  you  truly  and  faithfully." 

"I  thank  you,  Monsieur";  and  then  mademoiselle 
was  silent  for  so  long  a  time  that  I  half  turned  in  my 
saddle  to  look  at  her.  She  looked  up  at  me  with  a 
pitiful  little  smile. 

"Have  patience,  Monsieur— I  will  soon  find  my 
courage;  but  I  have  need  to  trust  you  greatly,  for  I 
am  trusting  you  with  the  safety,  perhaps  the  life,  of  a 
friend.  You  will  not  let  any  harm  come  to  him 
through  my  betrayal  ? ' ' 

"I  promise,  Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "to  do  nothing 
you  will  not  approve.  But  there  should  never  be  any 
question  of  a  betrayal.  If  a  trust  has  been  given  and 
received,  then  it  is  sacred,  but  it  is  not  betrayal  if  it 
has  been  forced  upon  one  without  his  consent. ' ' 

I  said  this  because  I  began  to  have  a  glimmering  of 
the  truth,  and  I  did  not  want  mademoiselle  to  violate 
her  conscience.  No  good  can  ever  come  from  that,  I 
have  found,  and  much  as  I  wanted  to  hear  what  she 
had  to  tell  me,  I  could  not  listen  comfortably  if  I 
thought  she  were  really  betraying  a  trust.  I  was  still 
turned  in  my  saddle,  watching  her  face,  and  I  saw  it 
lighten  at  once,  and  something  like  a  great  sigh  of  re 
lief  seemed  to  come  from  the  depths  of  her  breast. 

"I  see,  Monsieur,"  she  said,  "you  men  understand 


128  THE  ROSE  OP  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

right  and  wrong  better  than  we  maidens.  It  has  trou 
bled  me  greatly  that  I  should  prove  unfaithful  to  a 
trust,  and  yet  I  saw  no  other  way.  And  now,  for  fear 
my  courage  will  ooze  out,  I  must  tell  you  quickly. 

"Two  weeks  ago  I  received  a  letter  from  the  Cheva 
lier  Le  Moyne,  a  week  ago  I  received  a  second,  and 
yesterday  I  received  a  third.  The  purport  of  all  these 
letters  is  the  same.  I  have  returned  no  answer  to  any 
of  them,  though  each  has  begged  for  an  answer  and 
given  me  full  instructions  as  to  how  to  send  it. 

"The  chevalier  has  gone  no  farther  south  than  Cape 
Girardeau.  He  is  waiting  near  there,  in  an  Osage 
camp,  to  seize  an  opportunity  to  rescue  me,  he  says, 
and  restore  me  to  my  people.  If  I  had  replied  to- 
either  of  these  letters,  professing  my  willingness  to 
go  with  him,  then  I  should  have  received  a  note  of  in 
structions  as  to  where  to  be  on  a  certain  day  and  at  a 
certain  hour.  But  I  have  replied  to  none,  and  the  last 
letter  has  grown  desperate.  In  it  he  says  if  he  does 
not  hear  from  me  he  shall  return  to  St.  Louis  on  the 
evening  of  the  Jour  des  Rois  and  be  present  at  the 
dance,  which  is  by  custom  a  masked  dance,  and  will 
then  find  means  to  carry  me  off.  If  I  am  not  willing- 
to  go  with  him,  then  I  must  send  him  a  letter  before 
the  Jour  de  1'An,  telling  him  so  finally,  when  he  will 
return  to  New  Orleans  and  leave  me  to  my  fate.  Now, 
Monsieur,  it  will  seem  to  you  an  easy  matter  that  I 
should  write  him,  finally,  that  I  will  not  go  with  him. 
But  a  woman's  heart  is  a  strange  thing.  I  want  to- 
go  with  him,  with  all  my  heart,  and  yet  I  shudder  at 
the  very  thought  of  going  with  him.  When  I  let  my 


MADAME  CHOUTEAU'S  BALL  129 

thoughts  dwell  on  the  glories  that  await  me  in  Paris, 
wealth  and  power  and  luxurious  living,  and  the  so 
ciety  of  the  great  and  the  noble,  such  as  the  chevalier 
has  described  it,  I  feel  as  if  I  must  go,  and  all  this  life 
which  has  been  so  sweet  to  me  here  on  the  very  borders 
of  civilization  grows  utterly  distasteful.  Yes,  even  the 
friends  that  have  been  so  dear  to  me  begin  to  seem 
rude  and  boorish,  as  the  chevalier  called  them.  Some 
times,  in  some  of  my  wayward  moods,  the  very  perils 
of  the  journey  attract  me  with  a  strange  fascination. 
The  ride  through  the  forest  with  savages  for  guards ; 
the  long  journey  in  an  open  boat  on  the  bosom  of  the 
great  Father  of  Waters ;  and  at  last  the  perilous  voy 
age  by  sea,  all  draw  me  strangely.  At  such  times  the 
chevalier  seems  to  me  an  angel  of  light,  and  my  only 
hope  of  escape  from  my  narrow  confines  to  a  broad 
and  beautiful  life.  But  there  are  times  when  it  all 
seems  very  different :  when  the  thought  of  leaving  my 
two  dear  guardians  is  unbearable,  and  the  life  I  have 
known  and  loved  from  childhood,  among  sweet,  true 
friends,  the  only  life  I  desire.  Ah,  Monsieur,  I  am  so 
torn  by  these  conflicting  states  of  mind  that  what  won 
der  my  guardians  think  me  changed !  They  believe 
the  chevalier's  tales  have  spoiled  me  for  my  life  in 
St.  Louis,  and  that  I  would  gladly  leave  them.  When 
I  see  them  sad  over  what  they  believe  to  be  my  heart- 
lessness  my  own  heart  is  like  to  break,  but  I  say  no 
thing,  and  they  believe  me  to  be  entirely  ungrateful 
and  unfeeling. 

"So  you  can  see  how  unhappy  I  have  been  and  am, 
and  how  sometimes  I  am  tempted  to  break  away  from 


130  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

it  all  and  fly  with  the  chevalier  to  new  scenes,  whether 
they  bring  joy  or  sorrow." 

Mademoiselle  did  not  tell  me  all  this  without  much 
hesitation,  sometimes  stopping  entirely  until  she  could 
find  courage  to  go  on  again,  and,  as  I  said  before,  often 
trembling  so  much  that  the  little  arm  about  my  great 
waist  nearly  lost  its  grip.  I  did  not  interrupt  her 
once,  but  waited,  even  after  she  had  finished,  for  fear 
she  might  have  more  to  say.  And  presently  she  added : 

" If  I  do  not  answer  the  chevalier's  letter  he  will  be 
here  on  the  Jour  des  Rois,  and  it  is  more  than  likely 
he  will  lose  his  life  in  the  attempt  to  carry  me  off, 
even  if  I  were  willing  to  go  with  him." 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said  slowly,  "it  is  a  hard  thing 
you  have  asked  me,  and  I  feel  sure  that  whatever  I 
may  say  I  will  make  you  angry,  as  I  did  last  night. 
Of  course  you  know  that  what  I  would  most  like 
would  be  that  you  should  let  the  chevalier  come  on  the 
Jour  des  Rois,  and  we  would  capture  him,  and  there 
would  be  an  end  to  all  this  trouble.  But  you  know, 
too,  that  since  you  have  trusted  me  with  his  secret  I 
would  feel  in  duty  bound  to  save  him  and  get  him 
safely  outside  the  stockade  again,  even,  if  need  were, 
at  the  risk  of  my  own  life.  The  thing,  therefore,  that  I 
wish  you  would  do,  and  that  seems  to  me  the  only 
thing  to  do,  is  to  write  him  at  once,  telling  him  you 
will  never  go  with  him,  and  bidding  him  return  at 
once  to  France  since  his  task  is  a  hopeless  one. ' ' 

"And  cut  myself  off  from  seeing  France  and  recov 
ering  my  possessions  ! ' ' 

11  'Tis  not  cutting  yourself  off."  (I  spoke  a  little 


MADAME  CHOUTEAU'S  BALL  131 

sternly,  for  I  was  beginning  to  feel  irritated  that  she 
could  not  see  the  utter  folly  of  thinking  for  a  moment 
of  going  with  the  chevalier.)  "  Your  guardian  is 
only  waiting  for  two  things,  and  as  soon  as  they  are 
accomplished  he  will  send  you  to  Paris.  He  is  await 
ing  letters  from  your  friends  to  say  the  time  is  ripe  for 
your  return,  and  they  are  ready  to  receive  you,  and 
he  is  waiting  to  find  a  proper  person  in  whose  care  he 
can  place  you  to  make  the  voyage." 

"  Then  here  is  the  time  and  the  opportunity,"  said 
mademoiselle,  eagerly :  ' '  my  friends  have  sent  the 
chevalier  for  me,  and  he  is  waiting  to  conduct  me 
there." 

I  could  have  shaken  her,  for  a  minute,  her  stupidity 
seemed  so  vast  to  me.  Then  I  remembered  she  was 
really  only  a  child,  and  that  there  are  many  things 
maidens  do  not  understand  so  well  as  men.  So  I  tried 
to  speak  gently,  but  so  plainly  that  once  for  all  she 
might  understand. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "  do  you  not  see  that  the 
very  fact  that  the  chevalier  is  trying  to  induce  you  to 
go  te  France  alone  with  him  is  proof  either  of  his  vil 
lainy  or  of  his  colossal  stupidity  ?  Were  he  the  angel 
of  light  he  has  sometimes  seemed  to  you,  and  should 
he  carry  you  safely  to  France  and  deliver  you  into 
the  hands  of  your  friends,  yet  who,  in  gay  and  skepti 
cal  Paris,  would  not  be  willing  to  believe  the  worst 
of  both  of  you?  The  society  that  he  has  painted  to 
you  as  ready  to  fall  at  your  feet  would  be  only  ready 
to  spurn  you.  Forgive  me,  Mademoiselle,  for  speak 
ing  thus  plainly,  but  there  is  no  man  in  the  world  who 


132  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

would  not  believe  that  the  very  fact  of  the  cheva 
lier's  trying  to  persuade  you  to  go  with  him  to  Prance 
proves  him  a  villain  of  the  deepest  dye." 

Mademoiselle  did  not  answer ;  but  her  arms  slipped 
from  my  waist,  and  presently  I  felt  her  little  head 
resting  on  my  broad  back,  and  sobs  were  shaking  her 
little  figure.  I  did  not  dare  stir,  for  fear  of  disturb 
ing  her,  but  it  was  very  uncomfortable  to  sit  so  rigidly 
erect,  not  daring  to  move,  because  a  beautiful  little 
black  and  curly  head  was  resting  a  little  above  the 
small  of  one's  back,  while  tempests  of  tears  were 
drenching  one 's  military  cloak,  and  the  shaking  from 
the  sobs  was  making  queer  little  shivers  run  up  and 
down  one's  backbone. 

Now  this  was  the  second  time  my  brutality  had 
brought  mademoiselle  to  tears.  This  time  I  thought 
it  was  good  for  her,  and  was  of  a  mind  to  let  her  weep 
it  out,  though  all  the  time  longing  to  turn  around  and 
take  her  in  my  arms  and  let  her  weep  upon  my  breast 
instead  of  on  my  back. 

But  presently  I  was  aware  of  heroic  efforts  to  stifle 
the  sobs  and  stay  the  tears,  and  then  I  heard  a  most 
woebegone  voice: 

"  Oh,  monsieur,  what  shall  I  do?  what  shall  I  do?  ' 

Now,  I  had  brought  Fatima  to  a  standstill,  for  I  was 
afraid  to  let  her  go  even  at  a  slow  walk  when  made 
moiselle  had  no  arm  to  hold  on  by,  and  her  head  bob 
bing  at  every  step  of  Fatima 's  into  the  ticklish  part 
of  my  back.  And  by  chance  we  had  stopped  where 
the  Rue  Bonhomme  climbs  down  the  bluff  to  the 
river,  and  our  boats  lay  moored  at  its  foot.  Suddenly 


MADAME  CHOUTEAU'S  BALL  133 

an  answer  to  her  question  flashed  into  my  head.  It 
seemed  to  me  a  perfect  solution  of  all  difficulties,  but 
in  the  nature  of  the  case  I  could  say  nothing  to  made 
moiselle  until  I  had  consulted  Dr.  Saugrain  and  my 
captain. 

One  thing  I  could  say,  however,  and  I  reiterated 
what  I  had  said  before : 

"  One  thing  you  can  do  at  once,  mademoiselle: 
write  to  the  chevalier  so  firm  and  positive  a  refusal 
that  he  will  never  trouble  you  again,  and  then  go  and 
tell  your  guardian  all  about  it.  He  deserves  this  con 
fidence  from  you,  and  I  think  you  will  never  be  very 
happy  until  you  have  made  him  feel  that  there  is  no 
change  in  your  grateful  affection  to  him." 

There  was  another  moment  of  silence,  and  then,  in 
the  meekest  of  tones: 

"  I  will  do  all  you  tell  me,  monsieur. " 

I  could  not  believe  it  was  the  same  haughty  made 
moiselle  who  had  so  scorned  "ce  garc.on-ca."  But 
I  was  not  going  to  show  her  the  elation  I  could  not 
help  feeling  in  her  change  of  attitude ;  and  being  also 
most  sorry  for  her,  and  everything  settled  as  far  as 
it  could  be  about  the  chevalier,  I  thought  it  time  that 
she  should  be  diverted  from  her  unhappy  thoughts, 
and  so  I  bade  her  look  down  on  the  great  river,  now 
rolling,  a  silver  flood  under  the  moon,  straight  to  Cape 
Girardeau,  where  the  chevalier  was  lingering,  and  past 
fort  and  forest  on  to  the  rich  city  of  New  Orleans. 
For  a  moment  the  old  longing  returned  to  be  one 
of  a  great  army  borne  on  its  swift  waters  to  capture 
the  haughty  city  that  held  the  gateway  to  the  sea.  I 


134  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

thought  it  no  harm  to  tell  mademoiselle  what  my 
dreams  had  been,  and  we  both  laughed  merrily  at  the 
audacity  of  them. 

But  the  night  was  passing,  and  gently  lifting  made 
moiselle 's  arm  and  placing  it  so  that  it  should  once 
more  hold  her  secure  on  her  pillion,  I  put  Fatima  to 
a  gentle  canter;  and  as  I  felt  Pelagie's  clasp  tighten, 
my  pulse  leaped  faster  in  my  veins,  and  I  gave  Fatima 
full  rein,  and  we  went  thundering  down  the  Rue 
Royale,  past  Madame  Chouteau's  place,  with  the  last 
revelers  just  coming  through  the  great  gates;  past 
Auguste  Chouteau's  house,  standing  dark  among  its 
trees;  past  the  Government  House,  still  brightly 
lighted,  for  Governor  Delassus  and  his  retinue  were 
just  entering  the  great  hall ;  turned  up  the  Rue  de  la 
Tour,  with  the  tower  at  the  top  of  the  hill  shining 
white  in  the  moonlight,  then  down  the  long  stretch  of 
the  Rue  de  1'Eglise,  faster  and  faster,  as  mademoi 
selle  clung  closer,  until  we  reached  the  gate  of  Emi 
gre's  Retreat,  and  a  great  dog  came  rushing  to  meet  us 
with  mighty  bounds  and  joyous  barks,  and  would  have 
overpowered  us  both  with  his  clumsy  caresses  but  that 
a  sweet  voice  (never  before  one  half  so  sweet)  called: 

' '  A  bas,  Leon !    Tais-toi,  mon  ange ! ' ' 


CHAPTER  X 

LA   GUIGNOLEE 
"  By  sports  like  these  are  all  their  cares  beguiled." 

I  WOKE  the  next  morning  with  a  feeling  of  elation 
that  for  a  moment  I  did  not  understand;  then  I 
recognized  that  it  was  a  feeling  that  mademoiselle  and 
I  would  never  again  be  on  any  but  the  friendliest  of 
terms.  No  more  fear  of  merry  scoffing  or  haughty 
disdain !  I  had  a  right  to  look  now  for  only  kindness 
and  friendliness. 

But  I  did  not  know  mademoiselle.  The  morning 
was  bleak;  a  fine  drizzle  of  rain,  freezing  as  it  fell, 
was  hanging  jeweled  pendants  from  every  twig  and 
branch.  I  went  down-stairs,  to  find  that  morning  cof 
fee  was  being  served  in  the  living-room,  on  a  small 
table  drawn  up  before  a  blazing  fire  of  logs.  Made 
moiselle,  who  did  not  often  come  to  early  coffee,  was 
serving  it,  in  a  warm-looking  gown  of  some  wool  stuff, 
deep  red  in  color,  and  I  thought  it  suited  well  her  dark 
beauty  and  the  bleak  morning.  I  stopped  at  the  thresh 
old  to  make  my  low  bow,  and  then  wer*  forward, 
expecting  a  less  formal  greeting.  But  she  only  looked 
up  from  the  silver  urn,  whence  she  was  drawing  a 
cup  of  coffee  for  the  captain,  long  enough  to  say, 

135 


136  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"  Good  morning,  monsieur,"  in  her  iciest  tones,  and 
then  went  on  talking  gaily  to  the  captain  of  the  ball 
the  night  before.  I  did  not  understand  at  all,  but  I 
thought  it  quite  possible  I  had  imagined  her  coldness ; 
and  so,  without  seeming  to  push  myself  unduly,  I 
sought  to  join  in  the  conversation  when  opportunity 
offered.  I  think  the  captain  seconded  my  efforts  out 
of  the  courtesy  natural  to  him ;  but  mademoiselle  made 
it  so  plain  that  she  desired  to  ignore  me  that  I  soon 
took  my  cup  and  withdrew  to  a  corner  of  the  fireplace. 
I  hope  I  did  not  do  anything  so  boyish  as  to  sulk 
there,  but  of  that  I  am  not  sure. 

When  the  good  doctor  came  bustling  in  from  his 
laboratory  a  few  minutes  later,  half  frozen,  but 
burning  with  enthusiasm  over  some  experiments  he 
was  making  with  quicksilver,  he  brought  his  coffee 
to  my  warm  corner,  and  I  at  once  simulated  the  deep 
est  interest  in  his  account  of  his  morning's  work- 
though  I  confess  I  have  never  taken  any  great  inter 
est  in  science,  and  from  what  he  seemed  to  expect  the 
quicksilver  to  do  I  did  not  feel  altogether  sure  that  he 
was  not,  in  truth,  dabbling  in  black  art. 

There  was  a  long  mirror  at  the  other  end  of  the 
room— one  that  Madame  Saugrain  had  brought  from 
Prance,  and  the  pride  of  her  heart.  As  we  talked  I 
could  glance  in  it  and  see  mademoiselle  perfectly  with 
out  seeming  to  look  at  her.  I  observed  that  she  grew 
more  and  more  distrait,  only  half  listening  to  the 
captain,  and  very  evidently  trying  to  overhear  our 
conversation.  I  had  not  known  that  mademoiselle  was 
so  interested  in  science,  and  I  began  to  make  deep  and 


LA  GUIGNOLEE  137 

learned  speeches  (or,  at  least,  I  hoped  they  sounded 
so)  on  quicksilver  and  on  every  subject  allied  to  it. 
I  did  not  hesitate  to  make  some  remarkable  statements, 
for  whose  truth  I  modestly  said  I  could  not  vouch. 
The  doctor  was  too  courteous  to  show  the  surprise  I 
think  he  must  have  felt  at  some  of  them,  but  if  I  had 
not  been  so  interested  in  my  investigations  in  the 
mirror  (which,  I  am  sure,  is  closely  allied  to  quick 
silver)  I  would  have  noticed  without  doubt  that  know 
ing  twinkle  of  the  eye  that  I  had  seen  at  least  twice 
before.  My  glances  in  the  mirror,  however,  showed  me 
that  my  learned  speeches  had  produced  their  intended 
effect  on  mademoiselle,  at  least,  and  once  more  I 
caught  that  wondering  glance  fixed  upon  me. 

I  did  not  see  mademoiselle  again  until  the  evening 
supper-hour.  After  breakfast  Dr.  Saugrain  invited 
the  captain  and  me  to  ride  with  him  up  to  Pierre 
Chouteau's,  and  on  the  ride  he  told  us  that  made 
moiselle  had  come  to  him  that  morning  in  the  labora 
tory  and  had  told  him  all  about  the  chevalier.  I  was 
much  touched  that  she  had  acted  upon  my  advice  so 
promptly,  and  half  forgave  her  for  her  treatment  of 
me  at  coffee,  though  I  understood  it  the  less.  The 
doctor  did  not  say  so  directly,  but  I  judged  from  one 
or  two  little  remarks  that  he  and  Pelagie  had  had 
a  thorough  clearing  up  of  all  their  misunderstandings 
and  were  once  more  on  the  old  confidential  terms.  He 
spoke  especially  of  her  "  sweetness,"  and  said  his 
advice  had  been,  like  mine,  to  write  the  chevalier  at 
once  a  firm  refusal.  But  the  good  doctor  was  greatly 
troubled. 


138  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

"I  shall  never  feel  quite  secure  again,"  he  said, 
"till  I  have  Pelagie  safe  with  her  friends  in  France; 
so  I  shall  seek  the  first  opportunity  of  sending  her 
there.  'T  is  for  that  I  am  going  to  consult  Pierre 
Chouteau,  and  I  thought  you  might  have  some  sug 
gestion,  one  or  both  of  you,  as  to  how  to  find  an  escort 
for  her." 

I  was  so  eager  with  my  plan  that  had  flashed  on 
me  the  night  before  that  I  could  not  wait  to  show  the 
proper  courtesy  to  my  captain.  He  certainly  had  a 
right  to  speak  first,  but  I  broke  forth,  "I  have  a  plan, 
sir— ' '  and  then  was  abashed  and  stopped  short. 

The  doctor  understood,  and  nodded  to  me. 

"Yes;  let  the  captain  speak  first,  and  then  we  will 
hear  your  plan. ' ' 

"Nay,"  said  the  captain,  with  his  friendliest  smile; 
"let  the  lad  speak.  He  has  a  plan  that  seems  to  me 
not  wholly  unpracticable  and  may  prove  the  very 
thing." 

Thus  encouraged,  I  rushed  ahead : 

"I  have  been  talking  to  Captain  Clarke  about  it, 
sir,  and  he  thinks  it  can  be  done.  My  last  letter  from 
home  said  that  Colonel  Livingston  was  about  to  join 
his  father  in  Paris.  My  family  know  Colonel  Living 
ston  well,  and  a  letter  from  my  father  would  insure 
the  protection  of  both  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Livingston  for 
mademoiselle  on  the  voyage." 

But  the  good  doctor  shook  his  head. 

"I  could  never  get  Pelagie  to  New  York,  I  fear;  to 
both  Madame  Saugrain  and  myself,  such  a  journey 
seems  an  almost  impossible  undertaking." 


LA  GUIGNOLtfE  139 

"But  Captain  Clarke  has  that  all  arranged,"  I 
cried. 

The  doctor  looked  at  the  captain,  who  answered, 
smiling : 

"It  is  my  good  Achates  who  has  arranged  it,  but  I' 
heartily  approve  of  his  plans.  It  is  time  we  were  get 
ting  back  to  Kentucky,  and  he  proposes  that  we  take 
mademoiselle  with  us  to  my  sister,  Mrs.  O'Fallon. 
There  she  can  stay  until  we  can  find  a  suitable  escort 
up  the  Ohio  to  Fort  Duquesne,  and  across  the  moun 
tains  to  New  York.  There  are  boats  going  up  the  river 
every  week,  and  always  some  one  going  back  to  the  old 
home  to  whom  we  could  intrust  mademoiselle.  I 
think  it  a  good  and  feasible  plan. ' ' 

But  we  had  quite  reached  Pierre  Chouteau's  before 
we  had  persuaded  the  doctor  that  our  plan  was  at  all 
a  practical  one.  Not,  as  he  assured  us,  that  he  could 
not  trust  mademoiselle  with  us,  but  the  difficulties, 
dangers,  and  inconveniences  of  such  a  trip,  for  a 
young  maiden  with  no  woman  in  the  party  but  her  col 
ored  maid,  seemed  to  him  almost  insurmountable. 
However,  he  was  so  nearly  convinced  by  my  eloquence 
and  the  captain's  logic  that  just  as  we  were  turning  in 
at  Mr.  Chouteau  's  he  said : 

"Well,  well,  my  dear  friends,  it  may  be  possible. 
We  will  see!  I  must  take  time  to  consult  Madame 
Saugrain,  and,  until  then,  not  a  word  to  mademoiselle, 
I  beg  of  you  both." 

We  both  readily  promised,  though  I  was  so  elated  at 
what  I  considered  the  already  assured  success  of  my 
plan  that  I  might  have  found  it  difficult  not  to  speak 


140  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

to  mademoiselle  about  it  if  she  had  not  been  in  the 
same  icy  mood  to  me  at  supper  (though  sweet  and 
most  charming  to  the  captain  and  her  guardian)  as 
she  had  been  at  breakfast. 

The  next  day  Dr.  Saugrain  told  us  that  he  and  his 
wife  had  talked  far  into  the  night  about  Pelagie,  and 
they  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  our  plan  was  the 
best  solution  of  the  difficulties.  He  said  madame  had 
wept  much  at  the  thought  of  parting  with  Pelagie, 
and  of  all  the  difficulties  and  dangers  she  must  en 
counter,  before  she  could  become  reconciled  to  the 
thought  of  it ;  but  now  she  was  quite  resigned,  and  had 
already  begun  to  plan  what  clothes  and  other  conveni 
ences  it  wonid  be  necessary  for  Pelagie  to  take  with 
her,  and  how  they  could  best  be  got  ready. 

"And,  after  the  manner  of  women,"  the  doctor  said, 
"from  the  moment  she  began  to  think  about  clothes, 
she  began  to  grow  cheerful.  And  she  has  such  con 
fidence  in  Clotilde,  who  will  go  with  her,  and  who  has 
had  entire  charge  of  her  since  her  babyhood,  that  she 
thinks  she  will  be  as  well  taken  care  of  as  if  she  were 
with  her  herself.  But  we  both  think,"  he  added, 
"that  it  will  be  wiser  to  say  nothing  to  Pelagie  about 
it  until  it  is  almost  time  to  make  the  start.  If,  for  any 
reason,  our  plan  should  fail,  her  mind  will  not  be  un 
settled  by  it,  and  she  will  be  no  worse  off  than  if  we 
had  not  thought  of  it.  Moreover,  the  fewer  we  take 
into  our  confidence  the  better,  for  I  am  assured  the 
chevalier  has  spies  and  secret  emissaries  that  we  do 
not  suspect.  We  will  give  him  no  chance  to  thwart 
our  plans ! ' ' 


LA  GUIGNOLEE  141 

The  good  doctor  spoke  the  last  words  so  grimly  that 
it  was  easy  to  understand  in  what  esteem  he  held  the 
villain,  and  both  the  captain  and  I  heartily  approved 
his  precaution. 

There  followed  busy  days  for  me.  The  captain,  who 
was  much  engaged  in  settling  up  the  business  for  his 
brother  which  had  brought  him  to  St.  Louis,  had  little 
time  for  aught  else,  though  Governor  Delassus,  the 
Chouteaus,  and  Mr.  Gratiot  made  many  demands  upon 
him  for  counsel  and  for  social  festivities,  in  which  last 
I  was  courteously  included.  When  these  fell  upon 
the  evening  I  was  very  ready  to  join  in  them,  but  my 
days  were  more  than  full.  All  the  arrangements  for 
mademoiselle's  comfort  on  the  boat  my  captain  had 
intrusted  to  me,  and  I  was  determined  that  nothing 
should  be  left  undone  to  make  her  voyage  on  the  Great 
River  as  comfortable  as  possible.  The  cabin,  a  rough 
affair  at  its  best,  was  partitioned  into  two,  and  the 
larger  one  made  as  clean  as  six  blacks  scrubbing  hard 
on  hands  and  knees  could  make  it.  Then  I  got  from 
Pierre  Chouteau  a  small  stove  such  as  he  often  used 
on  his  boat  in  winter  trips  up  the  Missouri,  and  set  it 
up  in  the  cabin,  cutting  a  hole  in  the  roof  to  give 
egress  to  the  stovepipe.  From  Madame  Saugrain  I 
got  some  strips  of  warm,  bright  carpet  and  some  clean 
warm  bedding,  and  I  set  Yorke  to  work,  under  my 
careful  supervision,  to  make  the  two  beds  for  made 
moiselle  and  her  maid,  to  tack  down  the  strips  of  car 
pet,  to  put  up  some  white  ruffled  curtains  (also  Ma 
dame  Saugrain 's  gift)  at  the  square  bit  of  window, 
and  to  polish  up  the  brass  handles  of  the  portable 


142  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

locker  that  was  to  hold  mademoiselle's  wardrobe.  I 
thought,  when  all  was  done, — the  small  table  covered 
with  a  white  cloth,  and  two  shining  candlesticks  on  it, 
and  the  three  comfortable  chairs  arranged  about  it, — 
I  thought  it  cozy  and  complete  enough  for  a  trip  to 
France ;  and  my  heart  beat  high  when  I  thought  of  the 
tete-a-tetes  with  mademoiselle  that  must  almost  neces 
sarily  fall  to  my  lot  on  a  voyage  of  at  least  a  week. 
But,  in  the  meantime,  I  was  seeing  very  little  of  her, 
between  being  busy  all  day  and  often  invited  out  in 
the  evening — and  not  getting  much  satisfaction  when 
I  did;  for  either  she  was  incased  in  her  icy  hauteur, 
or,  if  she  chanced  to  be  kind,  I  was  so  brimming  over 
with  my  secret,  so  afraid  I  should  let  it  slip,  I  was  un 
naturally  constrained  with  her. 

Before  I  knew  it  the  Jour  de  1  'An  was  upon  us,  and 
the  doctor  and  the  captain  had  both  agreed  it  would 
be  wise  to  set  out  on  the  day  before  the  Jour  des  Rois. 
On  no  account  would  it  do  to  risk  remaining  over  the 
Jour  des  Rois,  lest  the  chevalier  should  accomplish  his 
purpose  in  spite  of  mademoiselle's  letter  of  refusal. 

Now,  as  its  name  signifies,  the  Jour  de  TAn  is  the 
greatest  of  all  days  to  these  St.  Louis  Frenchmen. 
Preparations  had  been  making  for  it  all  the  week. 
The  governor  himself  was  to  give  a  grand  ball  at 
Government  House,  and  I  had  heard  mademoiselle 
telling  Captain  Clarke,  as  we  sat  at  supper  on  New 
Year's  eve,  how  that  would  be  only  the  beginning  of 
a  round  of  festivities,  and  that  Marguerite  Papin. 
Pelagic  Chouteau,  and  she  had  been  making  the  bean- 
cake  that  afternoon. 


LA  GUIGNOLEE  143 

"And  what  is  the  bean-cake,  pray,  Mademoiselle?" 
I  inquired,  determined  to  take  matters  into  my  own 
hands  and  be  no  longer  shut  out  from  conversation  as 
if  I  were  infected. 

Mademoiselle  looked  up  in  surprise  at  my  audacity, 
and  for  a  moment  was  of  half  a  mind  not  to  reply  to 
me ;  but  she  thought  better  of  it,  and  answered  coolly 
and  formally : 

' '  'T  is  a  cake,  Monsieur,  with  four  beans  baked  in  it. 
It  will  be  cut  to-morrow  night  at  the  governor's  ball, 
and  the  four  maidens  who  receive  the  slices  with  the 
beans  will  be  the  queens  of  the  ball.  They  will  choose 
four  kings,  who  will  then  be  obliged  to  get  up  the  ball 
for  the  Jour  des  Rois,  and  at  that  these  four  kings  will 
choose  four  queens,  who  will  choose  four  other  kings, 
who  must  give  the  next  ball.  'T  is  an  endless  chain  of 
balls  till  Shrove  Tuesday  arrives,  to  finish  it  all  up 
with  one  grand  carnival  ball ;  and  so  you  see,  sir,  if  you 
stay  in  St.  Louis  I  can  promise  you  a  merry  winter." 

I  almost  laughed  as  I  thought  how  little  she  dreamed 
that  she  would  not  be  here  herself.  Yet  the  prospect 
sounded  alluring,  and  I  could  have  been  well  pleased 
to  spend  the  winter  in  the  gay  little  village,  if  the 
fates  had  ordained.  I  answered  her  to  that  effect,  and 
then  I  added : 

"If  you  could  but  give  me  any  hope  that  I  should 
be  chosen  a  king,  I  might  take  fate  into  my  own  hands 
and  stay  anyway. ' ' 

"There  is  much  ground  for  hope,  sir,"  she  .an 
swered  demurely,  "since  both  Pelagic  Chouteau  and 
Marguerite  Papin  are  almost  certain  to  be  queens." 


144  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Then,  with  a  quick  beat  of  the  heart,  I  thought  per 
haps  she  had  not  liked  it  that  they  had  been  friendly 
and  I  had  been  polite.  If  her  manner  to  me  could  be 
so  accounted  for  I  was  well  content,  for  at  least  it  did 
not  argue  indifference. 

But  before  I  could  reply  there  was  a  great  noise, 
outside  on  the  gallery,  of  shuffling  feet  and  smothered 
whispers,  and  mademoiselle  clapped  her  hands  and 
cried : 

"La  Guignolee!"  And  at  the  same  moment  there 
arose,  to  the  quaintest  air,  a  chorus  of  men 's  voices : 

"  Bon  soir,  le  maitre  et  la  maitresse, 

Et  tout  le  moude  du  logis  ! 
Pour  le  premier  jour  de  I'anne'e 

La  Guignole'e  vous  nous  devez. 
Si  vous  n'avez  rien  a  nous  donner, 

Dites-nous  le  ; 
Nous  vous  demandons  pas  grande  chose,  une  e'chine'e— 

Une  echinee  n'est  pas  bien  longue 
De  quatre-vingt-dix  pieds  de  longue. 

Encore  nous  demandons  pas  de  grande  chose, 
La  fille  ame"e  de  la  maison. 

Nous  lui  ferons  faire  bonne  chere— 
Nous  lui  ferons  chauffer  les  pieds." 

Horrified  at  these  last  words  of  the  song,  I  scarcely 
dared  glance  at  mademoiselle;  but  when  I  did  dare, 
to  my  amazement,  she  was  smiling  good-humoredly, 
and  I  saw  the  words  meant  nothing  to  her.  But  the 
chorus  was  interrupted  at  that  moment  by  a  single 
voice  which  I  recognized  at  once  as  Josef  Pap  in 's, 
singing  a  ditty  about  doves  and  cuckoos  and  nightin 
gales,  and  winding  up  by  declaring  that  he  was  dying 


LA  GUIGNOL^E  145 

for  the  soft  eyes  of  his  mistress.    I  saw  that  mademoi 
selle  recognized  the  voice,  too,  and  I  was  vexed  to  see 
the  bright  color  and  downcast  eyes  that  betokened 
she  understood  these  words  perfectly. 
But  the  chorus  began  again  immediately : 

"  Nous  saluons  la  compagnie 

Et  la  prions  nous  excuser. 
Si  1'on  a  fait  quelque  folie." 

(I  thought  this  apology  most  becoming.) 

"  C'e"tait  pour  vous  de"sennuyer; 

Une  autre  fois  nous  prendrons  garde 
Quand  sera  temps  d'y  revenir. 

Dansons  la  guenille, 
Dansons  la  guenille, 

Dansons  la  guenille  !  " 

And  then  the  doors  were  flung  open,  and  there  burst 
in  upon  us  a  motley  crew  of  grotesque  and  hideous 
masks,  each  one  bearing  a  basket  or  bucket  or  sack, 
and  all  singing  and  shouting  in  every  key  and  in  no 
time: 

"  Bon  soir,  le  mattre  et  la  maitresse, 
Et  tout  le  monde  du  logis  ! " 

Madame  Saugrain  and  mademoiselle  sprang  up 
from  the  table  and  ran  to  the  kitchen,  returning  with 
both  hands  full,  and  followed  by  a  procession  of  ser 
vants  bringing  eggs  and  sugar  and  butter  and  flour 
and  poultry  and  wine— a  goodly  donation  indeed  for 
the  Jour  des  Rois  ball,  and  for  which  the  maskers 
showed  their  thanks  by  dancing  la  guenille,  a  truly 


146  THE  ROSE   OF   OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Saturnalian  performance,  somewhat  shocking  to  my 
Eastern  notions  of  propriety.  But  evidently  neither 
the  doctor  nor  his  wife  nor  mademoiselle  saw  any  harm 
in  it,  for  they  applauded  it  greatly,  after  the  French 
fashion,  by  clapping  of  hands  and  crying  "Encore!" 
Yorke  had  come  in  with  the  other  servants  from  the 
kitchen,  and  it  was  a  sight  to  see  his  great  eyes  rolling 
in  ecstasy  and  his  white  teeth  displayed  from  ear  to 
ear  as  he  watched  the  mummers,  and  I  was  not  sur 
prised  to  see  him  follow  them  like  one  bewitched  as 
they  went  up  toward  the  Rue  des  Granges  to  Paschal 
Cerre's  house,  singing: 

"  Bon  soir,  le  maitre  et  la  maitresse, 
Et  tout  le  monde  du  logis !  *' 

"You  will  be  having  Yorke  dancing  la  guenille,"  I 
said  to  the  captain,  "when  he  gets  back  to  Kentucky." 

"An  he  does,"  answered  the  captain,  with  a  grim 
smile,  "I  will  bastinado  him."  For  I  think  the  cap 
tain  did  not  like  some  of  the  figures  of  la  guenille  any 
better  than  did  I. 


CHAPTER    XI 

CHOISSEZ   LE   ROI 
"  She  moves  a  goddess  and  she  looks  a  queen." 

E!  Jour  de  1'An  was  a  full  day  with  me.  Though 
I  did  not  go  to  early  mass  with  the  family,  I 
left  the  house  when  they  did  and  had  a  fast  gallop 
on  Fatima's  back  through  the  gray  dawn  down  to  the 
boat,  for  there  were  still  a  few  finishing  touches  to 
be  put  to  my  decorations  and  arrangements  for  made 
moiselle's  comfort,  and  I  was  in  feverish  haste  that 
all  should  be  in  readiness.  Captain  Clarke  and  I 
spent  the  day  in  visits  of  ceremony  made  at  the  houses 
where  we  had  been  so  often  and  so  kindly  entertained 
during  our  stay.  They  were  really  farewell  visits, 
though  for  prudential  reasons  we  said  nothing  of  our 
approaching  departure.  At  every  house  we  were 
served  with  croquecignolles  and  wine  or  ratafia  by  the 
young  maidens  and  their  mothers,  and  we  were  so  hos 
pitably  urged  to  eat  and  drink  that  had  we  done  any 
thing  more  than  make  the  merest  pretense  for  the 
sake  of  good  fellowship  we  would  havis  been  in  no 
condition  for  the  dance  in  the  evening. 

Frenchmen  know  better  how  to  manage  their  drink 
ing  than  do  we  Anglo-Saxons.    I  know  not  how  they 

147 


148  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

do  it,  but  I  know  not  a  young  fellow  appeared  at  the 
governor's  house  in  the  evening  who  had  apparently 
taken  more  than  was  good  for  him;  and  yet  had  our 
Philadelphia  lads  been  through  the  ordeal  of  prof 
fered  glasses  all  day  long,  I  warrant  there  would  not 
have  been  a  corporal's  guard  able  to  line  up  in  good 
order  at  the  governor's  ball.  But  all  these  young  St. 
Louis  Frenchmen  were  out  in  fine  feather,  and  carry 
ing  themselves  grandly,  eyes  bright  and  heads  steady, 
ready  to  lead  out  to  the  governor's  table  the  belles 
of  St.  Louis,  dazzling  in  brocades  and  feathers,  lace, 
and  powder  and  black  patches. 

It  was  a  goodly  feast,  ragout  and  roast  fowl  and 
venison  pasties,  and  cakes  and  tarts  and  rich  con 
serves  making  the  tables  groan ;  but  the  crowning  mo 
ment  was  when  the  governor's  stately  butler  brought 
in  the  bean-cake  (almost  as  much  as  he  could  carry) 
and  set  it  down  before  the  governor.  'T  was  a  breath 
less  silence  as  the  governor  cut  each  slice  and  sent  it 
first  to  the  maiden  nearest  him  and  then  to  the  next  in 
order.  I  was  not  in  the  least  surprised  when  one  of 
the  four  beans  fell  to  mademoiselle's  lot;  I  would  have 
been  surprised  if  it  had  not.  There  was  a  burst  of 
ringing  cheers,  led  by  Josef  Papin,  when  the  lucky 
slice  came  to  her,  and  I  thought,  "He  knows  he  will 
be  chosen  king,"  and  smiled  with  bitterness  at  the 
thought. 

I  had  not  seen  mademoiselle  all  day.  As  I  glanced 
at  her  now,  smiling  and  coloring  with  pleasure  at 
the  cheers  that  betokened  her  popularity,  it  flashed 
into  my  mind  that  she  would  reign  a  queen  indeed 


CHOISSEZ  LE  ROI  149 

when  she  came  into  her  own  in  France,  for  I  was  very 
sure  there  were  no  court  ladies  could  compare  with  her 
for  beauty  and  grace. 

The  governor  himself  crowned  the  four  queens,  and 
then  they  had  to  retire  into  the  background  for  a 
space  while  their  elders  danced  the  first  minuet,  in 
which  the  governor  led  out  Madame  Chouteau  in 
stately  measure.  But  after  that  formal  opening  of 
the  ball  the  young  people  had  it  all  their  own  way, 
and  the  four  queens  queened  it  royally  each  with  a 
flock  of  suitors  around  her.  I  said  to  myself  proudly, 
!<  I  will  not  hang  on  to  any  of  their  trains."  There 
was  no  possible  doubt  but  that  mademoiselle  would 
choose  Josef  Papin  (since  the  chevalier  was  not  there), 
and  while  I  would  have  liked  it  well  if  one  of  the  others 
had  chosen  me,  just  to  show  mademoiselle  that  all  did 
not  scorn  me,  I  would  not  seem  to  sue  for  favors.  So 
I  attached  myself  to  Mademoiselle  Chouteau  (who  had 
not  been  so  lucky  as  to  draw  a  bean)  ;  and  she  being 
in  the  sauciest  mood  (and  looking  exceeding  pretty), 
and  I  feeling  that  I  was  at  least  as  well  dressed  as 
any  other  man  (since  I  had  on  my  plum-colored  velvets 
and  my  finest  lace),  and  therefore  at  my  ease,  we  made 
ourselves  so  entertaining  to  each  other  that  I  began 
in  my  heart  to  feel  a  little  regret  that  this  was  to  be 
my  last  ball  with  her. 

I  would  not  so  much  as  look  at  mademoiselle,  whose 
silvery  laugh  sometimes  floated  to  my  ears,  for  she  had 
treated  me  shamefully  of  late,  and.  as  far  as  I  could 
see,  without  the  least  reason.  Just  once  I  caught  her 
eye,  however.  I  do  not  know  how  it  happened,  but 


150  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

there  was  a  moment  of  almost  silence  in  the  crowded 
room.  The  violins  were  not  playing,  no  one  was  dan 
cing,  and  for  one  fleeting  moment,  every  one,  or  nearly 
every  one,  seemed  to  have  ceased  talking.  Into  this 
strange  silence,  through  the  open  windows,  there 
floated  the  clear  call  of  the  whippoorwill,— only  one, 
for  the  buzz  and  clamor  and  clatter  of  many  voices 
surged  up  again  instantly,  and  the  violins  began  to 
scrape  and  screech  themselves  into  tune,  and  no  one 
seemed  to  have  noticed  either  the  silence  or  the  whip 
poorwill.  But  I  could  not  for  the  life  of  me  help  one 
swift  glance  toward  mademoiselle,  and  I  met  her  eyes 
seeking  mine  in  a  look  of  startled  alarm  that  was  al 
most  terror.  I  held  her  glance  long  enough  to  say  to 
her  with  my  eyes,  * '  Do  not  be  afraid ;  I  will  see  what 
it  is, ' '  and  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing,  before  she 
turned  away,  that  she  understood  and  was  reas 
sured. 

A  few  minutes  later  I  slipped  outside.  I  was  not 
entirely  at  ease  about  that  call,  it  had  meant  so  much 
once.  And  I  was  not  at  all  sure  of  the  chevalier.  A 
ball  like  this,  with  every  one  off  guard,  would  be  just 
his  opportunity.  Outside  there  was  a  motley  throng 
of  negroes,  river-men,  and  Indians,  hanging  around  to 
get  glimpses  of  the  dancers  and  the  guests  coming  and 
going.  The  yard  was  brightly  lighted  in  spots  by 
flaming  lightwood  torches,  which  left  the  other  parts 
in  deepest  gloom.  I  noticed  among  the  throng  a  little 
group  of  mummers,  such  as  had  been  at  Dr.  Sau- 
grain's  the  night  before  in  hideous  masks.  This  did 
not  at  first  seem  strange  to  me,  but  afterward  I 


"In  solitary  dignity  stood  Black  Hawk" 


CHOISSEZ  LE  ROI  151 

thought  it  must  be  unusual,  for  they  belonged  pecu 
liarly  to  New  Year's  eve. 

Leaning  against  a  post  that  held  a  lightwood  torch, 
a  little  withdrawn  from  the  others,  in  solitary  dignity, 
stood  Black  Hawk.  I  knew  if  there  had  been  anything 
unusual  in  the  whippoorwill  cry  he  would  know  it. 
I  sauntered  up  to  him  carelessly  (for  if  there  were 
spies  about,  1  did  not  want  to  arouse  suspicion),  and 
stopped  where  the  light  fell  full  on  me,  for  I  knew 
well  tfye  value  of  impressing  Black  Hawk  with  the 
HQlfiftuor  of  my  dress.  For  the  benefit  of  any  possi 
ble  listener,  I  told  him  that  the  governor's  halls  were 
hot  and  I  must  needs  get  a  draft  of  cold  air  before  I 
could  go  back  to  my  dancing.  Then  I  talked  to  him  of 
Daniel  Boone,  for  he  had  been  with  us  on  our  trip 
to  his  home,  and  I  knew  his  admiration  for  that  won 
derful  man.  His  only  responses  were  a  series  of 
grunts,  but  they  were  amiable  ones  (I  think  the  old 
savage  rather  liked  me),  and  as  I  talked  I  gradually 
drew  nearer.  When  I  was  quite  close  to  him,  I  said 
suddenly,  in  a  low  tone : 

"  Does  the  Great  Chief  of  the  Sacs  think  there  are 
any  White  Wolves  or  Red  Dogs  about  to-night?  " 

I  saw  a  sudden  glitter  in  his  eye,  but  that  was  the 
only  response  except  the  invariable  "  Ugh!  "  Then 
I  said  again  in  the  same  low  tone: 

"  If  Black  Hawk  will  watch  and  let  his  white 
brother  know  what  he  finds  out,  it  will  greatly  please 
the  brother  of  the  Captain  of  the  Long  Knives. ' ' 

There  was  another  "  Ugh!  "—this  time  with  half 
an  inclination  of  the  head,  and  I  went  back  to  the 


152  THE  ROSE   OF   OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

dance  satisfied  that  if  there  was  anything  wrong, 
Black  Hawk  would  discover  it. 

It  was  half  an  hour  later  when  Yorke  came  to  me 
between  the  figures  of  the  dance  and  begged  a  word 
with  me. 

"Jes  as  soon  as  yo'  can  slip  out  unbeknownst-like, " 
he  said,  "  that  thar  decent  redskin  's  waitin'  to  speak 
to  yo'-all  at  the  kitchen  doah.  Yo'  's  to  go  down 
through  the  house, so  's  nobody  outside  won't  see  yo'." 

I  found  an  opportunity  as  soon  as  that  dance  was 
over,  and  going  down  through  the  house,  with  Yorke 
as  my  guide,  I  found  Black  Hawk  waiting,  and  with 
out  a  preliminary  word,  in  slow,  sententious  fashion, 
he  delivered  his  message. 

II  Black  Hawk  say  to  White  Brother,  Beware  of 
'White  Wolf  and  six  Red  Dogs.     Wear  devil's  faces. 
All  gone  now.     Wait  for  Little  White  Fawn  going 
home.     Black  Hawk  go  home  with  White  Fawn  and 
Fine  Dress  and  Long  Knives'  brother  and  Little  Medi 
cine-man  and  Big  Black." 

I  understood  his  broken  sentences  very  well.  The 
mummers  were,  as  I  had  half  suspected,  the  chevalier 
and  a  band  of  Osages.  They  would  lie  in  wait  for 
Pelagie  on  our  way  home  and  capture  her  if  we  were 
off  guard.  Black  Hawk  offered  his  services  to  guard 
her  on  the  way  home,  and  I  gladly  accepted  them, 
for  even  then  the  chevalier's  band  would  outnumber 
us ;  and  while  in  a  hand-to-hand  fight  I  did  not  doubt 
we  were  much  the  better  men,  they  would  have  greatly 
the  advantage  of  us  in  being  able  to  spring  upon  us 
'  from  ambuscade  and  get  the  first  shot. 


CHOISSEZ  LE  ROI  153 

Black  Hawk  had  planned  our  forces  well,  but  I  did 
not  like  his  title  for  me,  "  Fine  Dress  ";  I  would 
rather  he  had  called  me  " Straight  Shoot,"  the  name 
he  had  several  times  given  me  on  our  trip  together  up 
the  Missouri.  I  had  a  lurking  doubt  that  he  was  re 
buking  me  for  my  vanity. 

But  there  was  no  time  to  quar? ,  .  about  titles.  I 
hunted  up  Dr.  Saugrain,  whom  I  found  in  the  wide 
chimney-corner,  the  center  of  a  group  of  choice  spir 
its,— the  two  Chouteaus,  Mr.  Gratiot,  Mr.  Cerre,  Fran 
cis  Vigo,  and  Manuel  Lisa,— and  he  was  telling  them 
all,  with  great  enthusiasm,  about  his  experiments  in 
quicksilver,  and,  to  my  surprise,  they  were  listening  as 
eagerly  as  if  he  had  been  telling  tales  of  war  and  ad 
venture—which  was  a  marvelous  thing  to  me,  to 
whom  science  was  ever  dull  and  dry-as-dust.  I  liked 
not  to  interrupt  him,  but  the  need  was  pressing, 
and  when  I  had  called  him  to  one  side  and  told  him  of 
the  presence  of  the  chevalier  and  his  Osages,  he  was 
greatly  excited. 

The  thing  that  troubled  me  most  was  that  we  were 
without  firearms.  I  had  my  sword  on,  of  course,  and 
so  had  the  captain,  but  swords  would  be  of  little  use, 
for  the  savages  would  not  wait  for  a  hand-to-hand  en 
counter,  but  would  fire  at  long  range.  The  only  thing 
to  be  done  was  to  borrow  from  the  governor ;  and  in  his 
grand  Spanish  manner  he  pressed  all  the  guns  of  his 
armory  upon  us,  and  said  he  would  send  a  messenger 
at  once  to  the  fort  to  have  a  troop  despatched  to  scour 
the  town  and  rid  it  of  every  suspicious  character; 
which  was  somewhat  of  a  relief  to  me,  but  would  have 


154  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

been  more  so  if  I  could  only  have  felt  more  confidence 
in  his  slow-moving  Spanish  soldiers. 

But  the  governor  begged,  since  it  was  a  matter  that 
required  no  haste,  that  we  would  say  nothing  to 
alarm  his  guests  and  so  break  up  the  dance  in  undue 
time,  for,  as  h  said,  the  kings  had  not  yet  been 
chosen,  and  it  -  uld  be  a  great  pity  to  interfere 
with  that  pleasant  ceremony.  As  for  me,  I  would 
have  been  quite  willing  to  dispense  with  it.  There 
would  be  no  pleasure  to  me  in  seeing  mademoiselle 
pin  her  bouquet  on  the  lapel  of  Josef  Papin's  coat, 
thus  choosing  him  her  king ;  but  there  was  nothing  to 
do  but  go  back  to  the  ball-room  and  see  it  out. 

As  I  entered  the  room,  there  happened  to  be  a  little 
break  in  the  coterie  of  young  men  surrounding  made 
moiselle,  and  through  it  I  met  her  glance  of  eager 
inquiry.  She  had  evidently  missed  me  from  the  room, 
and  had  her  suspicions  as  to  the  cause  of  my  long 
absence.  I  returned  her  glance  with  an  assuring  smile 
that  all  was  well,  and  went  on  to  where  I  had  left 
Mademoiselle  Chouteau  a  half -hour  before.  I  could 
not  have  expected  her  to  sit  in  a  corner  waiting  for 
me  all  that  while,  yet  when  I  found  that  she  too  had 
her  little  coterie,  and  I  was  evidently  not  missed,  I 
felt  unaccountably  hurt  and  forlorn:  as  if  there  was 
no  place  for  me,  an  alien,  among  these  St.  Louis 
French  people.  As  I  had  done  many  times  before,  I 
turned  to  Madame  Saugrain  for  comfort. 

It  was  nearing  midnight,  and  I  had  wondered  as 
I  came  in  why  they  were  not  dancing.  Now  I  saw 
the  reason  of  it.  Down  through  the  center  of  the  floor 


CHOISSEZ  LE  ROI  155 

came  the  governor,  followed  by  his  tall  butler  bearing 
a  silver  tray  with  four  small  bouquets  upon  it.  He 
went  directly  to  mademoiselle  first,  and  then  to  the 
three  other  queens  in  turn,  presenting  each  with 
one  of  the  bouquets  and  making  to  each  a  gallant 
little  speech,  which  the  four  maidens  received  with 
smiles  and  blushes  and  curtsies  as  became  them, 
but  mademoiselle  also  with  a  stately  grace  befitting 
a  queen. 

Then  there  was  a  moment  of  intense  expectancy, 
for  it  was  mademoiselle  who  was  first  to  place  her 
bouquet  on  the  lapel  of  the  coat  of  the  chosen  king. 
I  would  not  look  at  her.  I  did  not  want  to  see  her 
put  it  upon  Josef  Papin's  coat,  though  there  was  no 
other  there  more  fitting  to  receive  it  or  who  would 
make  a  more  royal  king  for  such  a  queen.  So  I  half 
turned  my  back  and  talked  busily  to  madame,  who 
listened  to  me  not  at  all,  so  engrossed  was  she  in  the 
spectacle.  It  seemed  to  me  a  long  time  in  the  doing, 
and  presently  I  saw  in  madame 's  eyes  a  light  of  eager 
surprise. 

"  Look,  m'ami,  look!  "  she  cried  to  me.  But  I 
would  not  look;  no,  not  even  when  I  began  to  feel 
a  suspicion  of  what  was  going  to  happen,  from  a 
queer  feeling  in  my  backbone,  and  my  heart  beating 
like  a  trip-hammer,  and  the  blood  rushing  to  the  roots 
of  my  hair. 

"  Look,  look!  I  beg  you  to  turn!  "  madame  cried 
again.  But  I  would  not  turn,  though  I  heard  a  sub 
dued  murmur  of  voices  all  around  me,  and  a  soft  rustle 
of  silken  skirts  coming  nearer  and  nearer— not  until 


156  THE   ROSE  OF  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

the  soft  rustle  stopped  close  beside  me,  and  a  sweet 
voice  said: 

"  Shall  I  pin  my  bouquet  upon  Monsieur's  back? 
I  believe  it  is  usual  to  pin  it  upon  the  lapel  of  the 
coat." 

Then  I  turned  quickly,  and  for  all  the  answer  I 
made  I  dropped  on  one  knee  and  held  toward  her  the 
lapel  of  my  coat,  and  as  she  stooped  to  pin  it  on  I 
looked  straight  into  her  eyes.  And  what  my  eyes  said 
to  hers  I  know  not,  but  quickly  the  white  lids  drooped 
over  hers  and  shut  me  out  from  heaven,  while  the  long 
black  lashes  lay  upon  her  cheek,  and  the  rich  blood 
swept  in  a  slow  flood  from  the  snowy  throat  to  the  dark 
waves  of  hair  that  crowned  her  white  brow. 

And  now  her  fingers  trembled  so  in  pinning  on  the 
flowers  that  she  was  long  in  the  doing  of  it  (though 
I  could  have  wished  it  much  longer)  ;  and  when  she 
had  finished  I  seized  the  hand  that  trembled,  and  for 
the  first  time  I  had  ever  dared  I  pressed  my  lips  upon 
it.  I  saw  another  wave  of  color  sweep  her  face,  and 
then  she  bade  me  rise,  and  as  I  stood  beside  her  a 
"burst  of  acclaims  came  from  every  lip,  "  Vive  le  roi! 
Vive  le  roi !  ' '  and  from  one, ' '  Vive  le  roi  et  la  reine  !  ' : 
and  I  could  not  have  been  prouder  had  I  been  king 
indeed,  and  she  my  royal  consort  beside  me ! 


CHAPTER  XII 

A    MIDNIGHT    FRAY 
"Out  of  this  nettle,  danger,  we  pluck  this  flower,  safety." 

JOSEF  PAPIN  was  the  first  to  bow  the  knee  to  me 
in  mock  homage,  and  as  his  laughing  eyes  met 
mine  he  said,  in  a  tone  not  so  low  but  that  mademoi 
selle  might  have  heard  if  she  had  listened : 

"I  owe  you  a  grudge,  sire.  You  have  stolen  the 
honors  I  so  dearly  coveted." 

A  sudden  impulse  seized  me. 

"Would  you  like  to  be  detailed  on  some  special 
service  to  your  king  and  queen?"  I  asked. 

"Most  certainly,  sire." 

"Then  stay  by  me,  and  when  the  ceremony  of 
choosing  the  next  king  begins  I  will  tell  you  about  it." 

Here  was  a  heart  as  true  as  steel,  ready  to  be  gener 
ous  to  a  successful  rival  and  loyal  unto  death  to  his 
queen.  It  would  not  hurt  to  have  one  more  guard 
for  mademoiselle  on  our  midnight  ride ;  we  would  then 
more  nearly  match  in  numbers  the  chevalier's  band, 
and  by  numbers  alone  might  intimidate  him  from 
even  making  the  attack.  Which  was  much  to  be  de 
sired,  since  there  would  be  two  ladies  in  our  party, 

157 


158  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

and  fighting  and  bloodshed  are  not  for  tender  hearts 
like  theirs  to  know. 

But  more  than  that,  I  thought  I  could  give  him  no 
greater  pleasure  than  the  chance  to  prove  himself  of 
some  real  service  to  mademoiselle,  and  I  would  like 
to  atone  for  stealing  the  honors  he  had  felt  so  sure  of. 
And  more  still :  we  had  decided,  in  our  hasty  confer 
ence  a  little  while  before,— Dr.  Saugrain,  my  captain, 
and  I,— that  it  would  not  do  at  all  to  wait  until  the  day 
before  the  Jour  des  Rois,  as  we  had  at  first  intended. 
Since  the  boat  was  in  readiness,  and  the  captain's 
business  finished,  there  was  no  reason  why  we  should 
not  start  at  once.  We  had  decided,  therefore,  on  the 
next  morning  for  our  departure,  for  we  all  felt  that  as 
long  as  the  chevalier  was  lurking  about  there  was  no 
safety  for  mademoiselle  until  she  was  well  on  her  way 
to  France. 

To  spirit  mademoiselle  away  without  a  chance  of 
saying  good-by  to  so  good  a  friend  as  young  Papin 
seemed  to  me  unkind  to  them  both.  We  could  trust 
him  fully,  and  he  should  have  his  chance  to  say  good- 
by.  The  captain  and  Dr.  Saugrain  had  intrusted  me 
with  the  entire  arrangement  for  mademoiselle's  safety 
and  given  me  command  of  our  little  force,  so  I  could 
make  my  offer  to  him  with  authority.  When  the  op 
portunity  offered  to  explain  to  him,  a  very  few  min 
utes  sufficed  to  tell  him  our  fears  for  mademoiselle's 
safety.  His  eyes  flashed  fire  as  he  listened,  and  when 
I  said  to  him,  "Would  you  like  to  make  one  of  our 
guard  on  our  way  home?"  he  grasped  my  hand  and 
wrung  it. 


A  MIDNIGHT  FRAY  159 

' '  I  thank  you,  monsieur, ' '  he  said,  and  then  he  mut 
tered  in  my  ear : 

*  *  What  would  I  not  give  for  one  good  chance  at  the 
chevalier ! ' ' 

Half  an  hour  later  our  little  cavalcade  set  off  from 
the  governor's  house,  the  governor  himself  waving  us 
an  adieu  from  the  gallery  steps.  We  had  placed  ma- 
dame  and  mademoiselle  in  the  center,  with  Josef  Pa- 
pin  on  one  side  and  myself  on  the  other.  Black  Hawk 
and  Yorke  were  in  the  van,  and  Captain  Clarke  and 
Dr.  Saugrain  brought  up  the  rear. 

It  had  been  necessary  to  make  to  the  two  ladies  some 
explanation  of  these  warlike  arrangements,  but  we 
had  said  nothing  of  the  presence  of  the  chevalier.  I 
knew  it  would  distress  mademoiselle,  nor  was  I  sure 
that  her  heart  would  not  dictate  a  surrender,  and  he 
would  at  last  accomplish  his  purpose  and  bear  her 
away  with  him,  a  willing  captive,  to  France.  We  had 
only  said  that  a  suspicious  band  of  Osages  was  lurking 
about,  and  we  thought  it  wise  to  take  some  precau 
tions. 

There  was,  on  the  Rue  de  1'Eglise,  which  was  our 
direct  way  home,  one  spot  peculiarly  fitted  for  an  am 
buscade,  where  the  road  dipped  suddenly  into  a  deep 
gully  and  rose  again  on  the  farther  side,  and  where, 
owing  to  the  marshy  nature  of  the  soil,  the  forest  had 
not  been  cleared  away.  It  was  a  lonely  bit  of  road, 
without  houses  on  either  side  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile, 
and  I  thought  it  more  than  likely  that  the  chevalier 
would  select  this  spot  for  an  attack,  if  he  intended  to 
make  one. 


ICO  THE   ROSE   OF   OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

To  cheat  him,  if  possible,  we  rode  up  the  hill  of  the 
Rue  de  la  Tour  and  turned  to  the  left  at  the  fort, 
which  was  dark  and  silent,  a  proof  to  me  that  the 
troops  had  left  it,  and  had,  no  doubt,  ere  this  rid  the 
village  of  our  enemy.  The  Rue  des  Granges,  down 
which  we  rode,  ran  along  the  crest  of  the  hill,  and 
there  was  no  marsh  here  to  be  crossed,  and  the  gully 
had  run  out  to  a  mere  depression.  We  bore  no  torches, 
and  moving  as  silently  as  possible  through  the  black 
ness  of  the  night,  we  hoped  we  might  escape  detec 
tion.  But  as  we  came  to  the  head  of  the  gully  I 
glanced  down,  and  at  that  moment  a  swift  spark  as 
from  a  tinder  flashed  into  the  air,  followed  by  a  steady 
glow,  and  I  knew  the  chevalier  was  there  and  that, 
deeming  himself  securely  hidden  among  the  trees,  he 
had  just  lighted  a  cigar  to  keep  him  company  in  his 
stealthy  watch.  And  I  knew,  too,  that  if  I  but  drew 
my  pistol  and  took  steady  aim  at  that  glow-worm  in 
the  dark  there  would  be  no  more  trouble  or  anxiety 
for  any  of  us  on  mademoiselle's  account.  For  one 
moment  I  hesitated,  and  Fatima,  feeling  the  involun 
tary  grasp  of  her  bridle-rein,  half  stopped.  But  could 
I  have  brought  my  mind  to  the  committing  of  a  cold 
blooded  murder  like  that,  the  memory  of  mademoi 
selle's  plea  for  the  chevalier's  safety  would  have  pal 
sied  my  arm.  Yet  my  generosity  had  like  to  have  been 
our  undoing.  What  it  was  that  betrayed  us  I  know 
not.  It  may  have  been  the  tramp  of  our  horses'  feet, 
conveyed  down  the  gully  as  by  an  ear-trumpet ;  or  it 
is  possible  that  in  spite  of  the  darkness  our  moving 
figures  were  silhouetted  against  the  faint  light  in  the 


A  MIDNIGHT  FRAY  161 

western  sky ;  or  a  stone,  loosened  by  one  of  our  horses, 
may  have  rolled  down  the  gully  to  the  chevalier's 
feet.  Whatever  it  was,  I  knew  we  were  discovered. 
There  was  suddenly  a  soft  call  of  a  whippoorwill  from 
below  us,  answered  quickly  and  softly  by  a  half-dozen 
others,  and  then  a  sound  as  of  hasty  but  cautious  stir 
rings.  I  knew  what  it  meant :  they  had  seen  us,  and 
they  would  cut  us  off  before  we  reached  our  gates.  I 
gave  a  quick  word  of  command : 

"Ride  as  hard  and  as  fast  as  you  can;  never  mind 
the  noise  you  make.  We  are  discovered !  Our  only 
hope  of  avoiding  a  fight  is  by  reaching  the  gates 
first." 

Black  Hawk  and  Yorke  were  off  like  a  shot:  Yorke, 
I  have  no  doubt,  with  the  intention  of  getting  to  cover 
as  quickly  as  possible,  but  Black  Hawk,  I  believe, 
after  a  scalp  or  two.  I  had  to  call  to  them  both  to  come 
back  and  keep  close  to  the  ladies.  Mademoiselle  had 
uttered  not  a  word,  only  urged  her  little  La  Bette  to 
do  her  utmost,  but  madame,  since  the  embargo  of  si 
lence  was  removed,  did  not  cease  to  utter  a  string  of 
prayers  and  entreaties  to  "le  bon  Dieu"  to  save  us  all 
from  the  savages. 

We  were  on  the  crest  of  the  hill,  and  looking  down 
to  the  Rue  de  1'Eglise  I  could  get  an  inkling  of  what 
progress  the  savages  were  making  from  an  occasional 
flash  of  shining  metal  in  a  ray  of  light  from  some  win 
dow;  for  though  the  hour  was  late  the  town  was  still 
astir  from  the  governor's  ball,  and  lights  were  in  most 
of  the  houses.  As  yet  they  were  some  distance  behind 
us,  but  though  we  were  on  horses  and  they  afoot,  they 


162  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

had  a  much  shorter  distance  to  travel  and  they  were 
fleet  runners.  We  were  like  a  chain,  only  as  strong 
as  our  weakest  link ;  we  were  only  as  fleet  as  our  slow 
est  horse,  and  that  was  the  one  that  bore  madame's 
plump  figure.  La  Bette  was  not  much  faster,  and 
I  began  to  get  in  a  fever  of  impatience,  as  I  could  see 
the  savages  were  steadily  gaining  on  us.  Should  we 
meet  them  in  that  dark  lane  leading  down  from  the 
Rue  des  Granges  to  the  Rue  de  1'Eglise  we  were  al 
most  certainly  at  their  mercy.  In  a  few  minutes  it 
was  evident  to  me  that  at  our  present  rate  of  progress 
they  were  sure  to  meet  us  there,  and  there  seemed  no 
possible  way  of  liurrying  our  two  slow  ponies.  I 
would  have  turned  back  but  that  I  believed  the  cheva 
lier  was  sharp  enough  to  have  sent  part  of  his  men  up 
the  gully  to  cut  off  our  retreat,  should  we  attempt 
one.  There  was  but  one* thing  to  do:  Fatima  had 
saved  mademoiselle  once;  she  should  save  her  again. 
I  leaned  back  of  mademoiselle  and  spoke  to  Josef 
Papin : 

"  We  will  never  reach  the  house  before  the  savages 
at  this  rate.  I  shall  take  mademoiselle  on  Fatima  and 
get  her  safe  inside  the  gates.  You  and  Black  Hawk 
follow  me  as  quickly  as  possible,  and  the  other  three 
will  remain  to  protect  Madame  Saugrain." 

Then  I  called  a  halt  and  explained  my  plan  to  the 
others.  It  needed  but  a  word,  and  there  was  no 
demur  but  a  low  wail  from  Madame  Saugrain,  who, 
I  make  no  doubt,  believed  Pelagie  was  going  to  certain 
death.  Mademoiselle  herself  said  nothing;  I  think  for 
the  first  time  she  realized  that  the  chevalier  was  lead- 


A  MIDNIGHT  FRAY  163 

ing  the  Osages  and  that  their  only  aim  was  to  get 
possession  of  her. 

My  explanation  had  not  consumed  a  minute,  and  as 
I  finished  it  I  turned  in  my  saddle. 

"  By  your  leave,  Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  bent  over 
and  lifted  her  from  La  Bette's  back  (and  never  was  I 
more  thankful  for  my  great  strength  and  that  she  was 
but  a  feather-weight,  else  had  the  feat  proved  a  dif 
ficult  one)  and  placed  her  securely  in  front  of  me  on 
Fatima.  'T  was  not  so  comfortable  a  seat  as  at  my 
back,  no  doubt,  but  I  dared  not  risk  her  where  I  could 
not  see  what  befell  her.  One  word  to  Fatima : 

"Sweetheart,  for  our  lives !"  I  laid  the  reins  low 
on  her  neck,  and  we  were  off  with  a  long  swinging 
stride  that  soon  left  even  Black  Hawk  and  Papin  far 
behind,  though  they  were  urging  their  good  horses 
to  the  utmost.  , 

There  was  not  a  moment  to  be  lost,  for  I  could  see 
that  the  savages  were  nearing  the  junction  of  the 
lane  and  the  Rue  de  1'Eglise,  and  we  must  pass  that 
point  before  them  and  ride  some  twenty  paces  down 
the  Rue  de  1'Eglise  before  we  should  reach  the  gates 
and  a  safe  refuge  behind  the  walls  of  Emigre's  Re 
treat.  I  did  not  cease  to  urge  Fatima  by  my  voice, 
though  never  touching  her  reins.  One  arm  held  made 
moiselle  securely,  and  my  right  hand  lay  on  the  hol 
ster  of  my  pistol,  ready  for  instant  service. 

Out  of  the  Rue  des  Granges  we  shot  like  a  bolt,  into 
the  steep  and  rough  lane  leading  down  the  hill.  Had 
I  not  held  mademoiselle  so  firmly  I  think  that  swift 
swerve  at  the  sharp  corner  might  have  unseated  us 


1(M  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

both.  Faster  and  faster  we  flew,  like  a  swallow  on 
the  wing,  Fatima  's  dainty  feet  as  surely  placed  among 
the  rocks  and  holes  of  the  rough  road  as  if  she  had 
been  pacing  in  Rotten  Row.  Well  she  knew  that  a 
misstep  of  hers  now  might  mean  death  to  all  three  of 
us,  and  well  she  knew  that  her  master  trusted  her 
perfectly. 

I  could  feel  mademoiselle's  heart  fluttering  like  a 
caged  bird  for  terror;  my  own  was  beating  like  a 
trip-hammer,  for  I  was  near  enough  now  to  perceive 
that  the  savages  too  were  redoubling  their  efforts  and 
it  was  still  a  chance  which  of  us  would  reach  the 
corner  of  the  Rue  de  1'Eglise  first. 

' '  Faster,  Sweetheart,  faster !  "  I  urged  in  an  agony 
of  apprehension  as  I  pressed  my  knees  close  to  Fati 
ma 's  hot  sides,  and  felt  her  breath  beginning  to  come 
in  long  laboring  moans  as  my  great  weight  (with 
mademoiselle's  added  one,  which  might  yet  prove  the 
last  feather)  began  to  tell  on  her.  Bravely  she  re 
sponded  to  my  voice  and  stretched  out  farther  and 
faster  at  every  stride,  and  in  another  moment,  with 
another  tremendous  swerve,  we  had  turned  the  corner 
into  the  Rue  de  1'Eglise  with  the  foremost  of  the  sav 
ages  not  twenty  feet  behind  us.  I  expected  nothing 
less  than  a  bullet  in  my  back,  and  was  glad  indeed  that 
mademoiselle  was  in  front  of  me,  fully  shielded  by  my 
broad  shoulders,  for  I  knew  whatever  befell  me 
Fatima  would  carry  mademoiselle  into  the  garden 
and  to  the  very  door  of  Emigre's  Retreat  before  any 
savage  could  possibly  reach  her.  But  I  felt  no  bullet, 
nor  did  any  whistle  by  my  ears,  and  I  wondered  why, 


A  MIDNIGHT  FRAY  165 

until  I  saw,  what  the  savage  possibly  saw  too  in  the 
dim  light,  that  mademoiselle  (whose  head  had  been 
cowering  on  my  breast  like  a  child  in  great  terror  try 
ing  to  hide  from  the  sight  of  danger)  had,  as  we 
turned  into  the  Rue  de  1'Eglise,  raised  her  head  and 
looked  boldly  over  my  shoulder. 

I  have  no  doubt  the  savage  feared  to  shoot,  lest  he 
should  hit  that  white  face,  and  I  did  not  doubt  that 
was  mademoiselle 's  plan,  to  use  herself  as  a  shield  for 
me.  I  was  very  angry  with  her,  but  I  had  only  time 
to  draw  her  head  roughly  down  on  my  shoulder  again 
when  we  were  within  the  gates  and,  in  a  dozen  mighty 
strides,  at  the  very  door  of  Emigre's  Retreat. 

At  the  sound  of  clattering  hoofs,  Narcisse  and  half 
a  dozen  servants,  among  them  mademoiselle's  maid, 
Clotilde,  came  running  out  on  the  gallery.  I  sprang 
from  my  horse  and  lifted  mademoiselle  down,  in  too 
great  haste  to  be  gentle,  I  fear. 

"  Take  your  mistress  into  the  house  and  bar  every 
door  and  window!"  I  cried  sharply.  "The  savages 
are  after  us !  ' : 

It  needed  but  that  word  "  savages  "  to  lend  wings 
of  terror  to  the  usually  slow  and  lazy  movements  of 
the  negroes.  With  shrieks  of  women  and  shouts  of 
men,  they  dragged  mademoiselle  into  the  house,  and 
I  heard  the  hasty  putting  up  of  bars.  Then  I  turned 
to  meet  that  one  savage  who  was  so  far  in  advance 
and  who  must  by  this  time  have  reached  the  gates. 
I  had  no  fear,  now  that  I  was  free  of  mademoiselle, 
for  I  felt  myself  good  for  two  or  three  of  them,  and 
I  could  even  now  hear  the  clattering  hoofs  of  Josef 


166  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Papin 's  and  Black  Hawk's  horse  coming  down  the 
lane,  and  they  were  a  host  in  themselves.  But  by  the 
time  I  had  reached  the  gate  there  was  a  great  noise  of 
shouts  and  firing  and  wild  halloos  at  the  corner,  and 
I  ran  on,  knowing  that  Papin  and  Black  Hawk  must 
have  met  the  savages,  and  knowing  that  the  two  would 
be  outnumbered  and  greatly  in  need  of  my  assistance. 
But  I  had  hardly  got  into  the  thick  of  the  melee, 
cutting  and  slashing  with  my  sword  for  fear  a  shot 
would  go  astray  and  hit  one  of  my  friends  should  I 
use  my  pistol,  when  the  savages  suddenly  turned  tail 
and  ran  off,  disappearing  in  the  night  like  shadows. 
For  a  moment  I  thought  it  was  my  prowess  that  had 
put  them  to  flight,  and  I  began  in  my  heart  to  plume 
myself  thereon.  But  only  for  a  moment,  for  up  the 
Rue  des  Granges  and  down  the  steep  lane  there  came 
charging  the  belated  troops  of  Spanish  horsemen  (they 
had  stupidly  been  scouring  the  other  end  of  the 
village,  it  seems),  and  would  have  charged  full  upon 
us,  no  doubt,— since  in  the  dark  one  could  not  tell 
friend  from  foe,— had  not  young  Papin  called  out  in 
Spanish  that  we  were  friends  and  belonged  to  Dr. 
Saugrain's  party.  Whereupon  the  officer  halted  long 
enough  to  inquire  in  which  direction  the  savages  had 
fled,  and  with  many  a  round  Spanish  oath  that  he 
would  not  leave  one  of  the  red  dogs  alive  if  he  had  to 
follow  them  to  Cape  Girardeau,  he  led  his  troop  clat 
tering  off  toward  the  stockade.  And  no  sooner  had 
they  disappeared  than  down  the  steep  lane  came  the 
rest  of  the  party,  Madame  Saugrain  half  dead  with 
fright  (for  she  had  heard  the  sounds  of  firing  and 


A  MIDNIGHT  FRAY  167 

of  fighting,  and  feared  the  worst  for  Pelagie),  the 
doughty  doctor  and  my  captain  not  a  little  disap 
pointed  that  they  should  have  missed  the  fray,  and 
Yorke  almost  as  much  so,  since  it  had  turned  out  to  be 
such  an  easy  victory. 

But  when  I  had  told  madame  that  Pelagie  was  safe 
in  the  house  and  the  savages  had  fled  and,  except  for 
a  scratch  on  my  forehead  that  scarce  drew  blood, 
no  one  was  hurt  (though  at  that  very  moment  Black 
Hawk  came  creeping  back  out  of  the  darkness  hang 
ing  a  dripping  scalp  to  his  belt,  which  when  I  per 
ceived  I  was  nigh  sick  unto  death  for  a  moment)  — 
when  I  told  her  all  this  (and,  fortunately,  madame 
did  not  see  Black  Hawk's  ugly  trophy),  she  broke 
forth  into  a  Te  Deum  and  went  happily  up  to  the 
house,  where  Pelagie  herself  came  running  out  to  meet 
her,  and  they  fell  into  each  other's  arms  and,  after 
the  manner  of  women,  wept  long  and  loud  for  joy, 
though  they  had  shed  no  tears  when  there  might  have 
been  occasion  for  them. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

"A  PRETTY  BOY!" 

"  And  to  be  wroth  witli  one  we  love 
Doth  work  like  madness  in  the  brain." 

T  the  door  of  the  house,  Black  Hawk  and  Yorke 
branched  off  to  the  servants'  quarters,  and  I  fol 
lowed  them  to  see  what  had  become  of  Fatima,  for 
I  had  left  her  standing  beside  the  gallery  when  I  ran 
back  to  meet  the  savage.  I  found  her  standing  pa 
tiently  by  the  stable  door  waiting  to  be  let  in,  and  she 
whinnied  with  delight  as  she  heard  my  step.  I  called 
to  Yorke  to  come  and  take  care  of  her  (for  I  was 
in  haste  to  get  back  to  the  house),  and  at  the  sound  of 
my  voice  Leon  came  rushing,  in  great  bounds.  To 
gether  we  walked  down  to  the  well,  that  I  might  wash 
the  blood  from  my  face  before  presenting  myself  to 
the  ladies.  The  well  was  in  a  low  part  of  the  grounds, 
some  little  distance  from  the  house,  and  it  was  while  I 
was  vigorously  splashing  my  hands  and  face  that  I 
heard  a  low  growl  from  Leon.  I  looked  up  quickly 
and  thought  I  caught  the  glimpse  of  a  gun,  and  in 
stinctively  I  sprang  to  one  side,  that  if  any  one  was 
aiming  at  me  I  might  cheat  him  of  his  aim.  At 
the  same  moment  Leon  sprang  with  a  terrible  roar 

168 


"  A  PRETTY  BOY ! "  169 

straight  at  the  spot  where  I  had  fancied  I  saw  the 
metal  shining  and  where  now  I  was  sure  I  heard  the 
rustle  of  some  one  fleeing.  I  followed  quickly  after,  for 
the  thought  of  any  human  creature  in  the  power  of 
that  great  beast  in  rage  was  awful  to  me.  Enemy  or 
no,  I  would  if  possible  save  him  from  being  torn  to 
pieces  by  a  furious  dog. 

As  I  ran,  I  called  to  him  as  I  had  heard  his  mistress 
call,  and  in  French,  lest  he  might  not  understand 
English : 

"A  bas,  Leon!  Tais-toi,  mon  ange!"  But  the 
words  had  no  meaning  for  him  in  my  gruff  voice:  it 
was  the  soft  music  of  his  mistress's  tones  he  under 
stood  and  obeyed.  I  heard  another  furious  roar,  a 
wild  shriek  as  of  a  creature  in  mortal  fear  or  pain, 
and  then  a  shot.  I  was  on  the  spot  almost  before  the 
shot  had  ceased  to  ring  in  my  ears.  There  lay  Leon  on 
the  white  snow,  a  dark  mass  writhing  in  what  I  feared 
was  a  death-struggle,  and  above  him  stood  the  chev 
alier,  his  smoking  pistol  in  his  hand.  I  knew  as  soon 
as  I  saw  him  in  Indian  costume  that  he  was  the  savage 
who  had  been  the  foremost  of  his  band,  who  had  fol 
lowed  us  so  closely  and  had  disappeared  when  I  had 
gone  to  seek  him.  It  was  in  the  doctor's  garden  he 
had  disappeared  and  lain  in  hiding  to  accomplish  the 
capture  or  execute  a  revenge  later. 

My  own  pistol  was  in  my  hand,  and  I  covered  him 
with  it.  In  that  moment  of  rage  when  Leon,  whom 
I  had  learned  to  love  and  who  loved  me,— Leon,  her 
dog,— great,  beautiful,  tried  and  trusty  companion 
and  friend,— lay  dying  from  a  shot  from  that  villain's. 


170  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

hand :  in  that  moment  of  rage  I  came  near  putting  an 
end  at  once  and  forever  to  a  life  that  I  believed  could 
never  be  anything  but  a  curse  to  any  mortal  asso 
ciated  with  it.  But  the  words  of  Pelagie  rang  in  my 
ears  and  stayed  my  hand: 

"If  it  is  in  your  power,  save  the  chevalier!" 

His  own  pistol  Avas  empty  and  he  knew  himself  to 
be  at  my  mercy,  and  that  his  life  was  worth  no  more 
than  the  snuffing  out  of  a  candle ;  yet,  to  do  him  justice, 
he  held  his  ground  and  returned  my  gaze  as  fearlessly 
as  he  might  have  done  had  we  stood  with  drawn 
swords,  each  ready  for  the  thrust  and  parry. 

The  old  moon  had  but  lately  risen,  and,  hanging 
low  in  the  eastern  sky,  her  level  rays  fell  full  on  the 
chevalier's  face.  It  was  white  enough,  but  that  might 
have  been  the  effect  of  her  sickly  light  reflected  from 
the  ghostly  snow ;  the  daredevil  in  his  eyes  said  plainly 
as  words,  "  Do  your  worst!  " 

For  a  full  half -minute  I  kept  him  covered,  and  for 
a  full  half-minute  he  returned  my  steady  gaze.  Then 
suddenly  there  arose  from  the  house  the  noise  of 
doors  opening  and  shutting  and  the  hurried  tramp  of 
feet.  I  knew  what  it  meant.  The  shot  had  been 
heard  and  they  were  coming  to  see  what  had  happened. 
In  a  moment  they  would  all  be  upon  us,— my  captain, 
the  doctor,  young  Papin,  yes,  and  Yorke  and  Black 
Hawk  too,— and  there  would  be  no  possibility  of  sav 
ing  the  chevalier. 

He  heard  the  noise,  also,  and  he  too  knew  what  it 
meant.  For  one  instant  his  eyes  wavered  and  he 
looked  as  if  he  would  turn  and  run,  spite  of  my  threat- 


"A  PRETTY  BOY!"  171 

enjng  pistol.  Only  for  an  instant,  and  then  he  drew 
himself  up  proudly  and  threw  back  his  head. 

"Fire,  Monsieur,"  he  said.  "Why  do  you  wait 
to  let  others  share  the  glory?" 

For  answer  I  lowered  my  pistol. 

"  Monsieur,"  I  said,  "  you  richly  deserve  death, 
and  for  a  moment  you  were  in  deadly  peril ;  but  Made 
moiselle  Pelagie,  whom  you  would  basely  wrong, 
pleads  for  you,  and  I  spare  your  life  at  her  interces 
sion.  If  you  will  turn  and  run  directly  south,  there 
is  a  low  place  in  the  wall,  and  on  this  side  a  pile  of  logs 
by  which  you  may  easily  scale  it,  and  almost  directly 
opposite  a  narrow  opening  in  the  stockade  through 
which  you  can  force  your  way.  But  you  must  run 
for  your  life.  I  will  remain  here  and  do  what  I  can 
to  prevent  pursuit ;  't  will  be  no  easy  matter  to  keep 
Black  Hawk  off  your  trail." 

Yet  he  did  not  start  at  once.  He  hesitated  and  his 
eyes  fell ;  then  he  looked  up  quickly  and  half  ex 
tended  his  hand. 

' '  Monsieur,  you  have  been  a  generous  foe ;  will  you 
permit  that  I  clasp  your  hand?  '' 

But  a  flood  of  memories  rushed  over  me:  his  un- 
swording  me  in  the  dance;  his  attempt  to  steal  made 
moiselle  at  the  picnic  and  to  poison  her  mind  against 
her  friends ;  this  second  attempt,  where  it  was  through 
no  fault  of  his  that  we  were  not  all  dead  men  and 
mademoiselle  far  on  her  way  to  Cape  Girardeau,  in  the 
power  of  savages  and  a  villain  more  to  be  dreaded 
than  they.  I  put  my  hand  behind  me  and  said  coldly : 

' '  My  hand  belongs  to  my  friends  and  to  a  foe  whom 


172  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

I  can  honor.  Monsieur,  if  you  tarry  longer,  I  will  not 
be  responsible  for  your  life." 

Even  in  the  pale  light  I  could  see  the  deep  flush 
sweep  his  cheek  and  his  hand  spring  involuntarily  to 
his  sword-hilt.  But  he  thought  better  of  it,  turned, 
and  strode  quickly  away  toward  the  low  spot  in  the 
stone  wall. 

Then  I  had  leisure  to  think  of  poor  Leon.  I  knelt 
down  beside  him,  where  a  dark  pool  was  rapidly  wi 
dening  in  the  white  snow.  I  could  see  where  the  red 
fountain  gushed  from  a  wound  in  his  shoulder.  It 
was  possible  no  vital  part  had  been  touched  and  he 
might  be  saved  could  that  gushing  fountain  of  life- 
hlood  be  stanched.  As  it  was,  his  eyes  were  already 
glazing  and  his  limbs  stiffening  and  his  breath  coming 
in  long-drawn  sobs,  like  a  man  in  extremity.  He 
was  like  to  breathe  his  last  before  even  those  hurrying 
feet,  fast  drawing  near,  should  reach  him.  I  knew 
enough  of  surgery  to  know  that  I  must  apply  a  tight 
bandage  above  the  wound ;  but  where  should  I  find  a 
bandage  ?  My  flimsy  lace  handkerchief  was  worse  than 
useless.  There  was  no  help  for  it :  the  purple  silken 
sword-sash,  of  which  I  was  mightily  proud,  whose  long 
fringed  ends,  tied  in  a  graceful  knot,  fell  almost  to 
my  knees,  must  be  sacrificed.  I  hastily  unknotted  it, 
and  tenderly  as  possible,  that  I  might  not  hurt  the 
poor  fellow  more  than  needs  must  (for  his  flesh  quiv 
ered  under  my  touch),  I  bound  it  round  the  shoulder 
and  with  all  my  strength  drew  it  tight.  Quickly  the 
gushing  fountain  stayed,  and  then  taking  from  my 


"A  PRETTY  BOY!"  17$ 

pocket  a  flask  that  my  mother  herself  had  always  bid 
me  carry,  I  forced  a  few  drops  into  his  fast-setting 
jaws.  I  knew  I  had  done  the  right  thing  when,  by  the 
time  they  had  all  come  up,  Leon  had  lifted  his  head 
and  was  feebly  licking  my  hand. 

Their  first  exclamations  of  horror  were  followed  by 
a  hail  of  questions : 

"  Who  has  done  this?  "  "  Where  is  he  1  "  "  Did 
you  see  him?  "  "  How  did  it  happen?  " 

To  all  their  questions  I  made  but  one  answer : 

"  I  heard  the  shot,  and  ran  up  to  find  Leon  lying" 
on  the  ground,  dying  as  I  believed,  and  I  have  done 
what  I  could  to  help  him." 

"  And  you  have  saved  his  life,  or,  at  least,  if  he- 
lives,  he  will  have  only  you  to  thank,"  said  Dr.  Sau- 
grain,  who  had  been  on  his  knees  beside  Leon,  exam 
ining  him. 

"  You  and  your  silken  sash,"  he  added,  with  the 
old  twinkle  of  his  eye.  "  'T  was  a  noble  sacrifice,  and 
we  all  appreciate  how  great  a  one. ' ' 

The  good  doctor  was  ever  twitting  me  on  what  he 
was  pleased  to  call  my  love  of  dress ;  but  I  made  him  m> 
answer  this  time,  for  I  was  watching  Black  Hawk, 
who,  with  an  Indian's  cunning,  had  at  once  discov 
ered  the  footprints  in  the  snow  and  that  there  was  but 
one  pair  of  them,  and  was  stealing  off  after  them. 
That  would  never  do. 

"  Great  Chief,"  I  cried,  "  't  is  no  use  following  the 
Red  Dog ;  he  has  had  too  long  a  start.  Will  you  help 
us  to  carry  the  dog  of  La  Petite  to  the  house,  where 


174  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

we  can  put  him  in  a  warm  bed?  'T  will  never  do  to 
let  him  lie  in  the  snow,  and  't  will  take  us  all  to  carry 
him  comfortably. ' ' 

Black  Hawk  hesitated,  and  then  grunted  out  an  un 
willing  consent.  I  think  it  seemed  to  him  somewhat 
beneath  the  dignity  of  a  great  chief  to  carry  a  dog,  and 
only  because  of  his  love  for  La  Petite  did  he  bring  his 
mind  to  it.  Nor  did  my  little  fiction  about  the  Red 
Dog  deceive  him. 

' '  No  Red  Dog, ' '  he  grunted.  ' '  White  Wolf !  Trail 
fresh.  Black  Hawk  bring  his  scalp  to  La  Petite." 

But  the  doctor  saved  me  the  necessity  of  arguing 
further  with  him. 

"Red  Dog  or  White  Wolf,  Black  Hawk,"  he  said, 
1  i  n  'importe  !  'T  is  the  mastiff  we  must  look  to  now. 
A  sad  day  't  would  be  for  all  of  us  should  he  die ; 
so  lend  a  hand,  vite,  vite!  " 

And  this  from  the  doctor,  who  had  told  me  when 
I  first  met  him  he  would  not  have  cared  had  I  killed 
Leon,  for  he  loved  him  not.  The  truth  was  that  the 
doctor's  devotion  to  Leon  and  Leon's  to  him  were  sec 
ond  only  to  the  devotion  of  the  dog  and  his  mistress 
to  each  other,  though,  owing  to  the  fact  that  Leon 
often  stalked  into  his  laboratory  at  inopportune  mo 
ments,  sometimes  spoiling  the  most  delicate  experiment 
by  poking  his  great  inquisitive  muzzle  where  it  did 
not  belong,  the  doctor's  patience  was  sometimes  tried 
almost  beyond  the  limit  of  endurance. 

The  doctor's  exhortation,  uttered  in  a  sharp  and 
clipping  way  peculiar  to  him  when  excited,  was  effec 
tual.  Very  tenderly  between  us  all  we  managed  to 


"A  PRETTY  BOY!"  175 

lift  the  mastiff,  and  bore  him  to  the  negroes'  quar 
ters,  where,  in  Narcisse's  cabin,  we  made  him  a  warm 
bed  and  washed  and  dressed  his  wound,  and  left  him 
in  a  fair  way  to  recovery. 

I  was  a  little  behind  the  others  in  reaching  the 
house,  for  I  had  delayed  about  some  last  arrange 
ments  for  Leon's  comfort,  and  then  it  had  been  neces 
sary  that  I  should  make  a  hasty  toilet.     Hands  and 
face  were  soiled  with  blood  and  grime   (my  purple 
velvets  I  feared  were   ruined  forever,  but  I  would 
not  take  the  time  to  change  them),  and  my  hair  was 
in  much  disorder.     A  hasty  scrubbing  of  hands  and 
face  and  a  retying  of  my  hair-ribbon  to  try  to  con 
fine  the  rebellious  yellow  curls  that  were  tumbling  all 
over  my  head,  and  that  I  so  much  despised,  were  all 
I  permitted  myself  time  for.    Yet  the  few  minutes  I 
had  lingered  had  been  long  enough  for  the  launching 
of  a  thunderbolt,  and  I  arrived  just  at  the  moment  to 
see  the  havoc  it  had  made. 

Mademoiselle  in  her  ball-dress  had  thrown  herself 
on  her  knees  beside  madame,  her  white  arms  flung 
around  madame 's  neck,  her  face  buried  in  her  mo 
therly  bosom,  sobbing  piteously.  Madame  gently 
stroked  the  dark  curls,  saying  over  and  over  only  the 
same  words,  "My  child,  my  child,  my  poor  child!" 
while  the  tears  flowed  down  her  own  cheeks  all  un 
noticed. 

The  doctor  stood  beside  her,  patting  as  he  could 
her  white  arm  or  dark  curls  or  tender  cheek,  and  say 
ing  helplessly : 

II  Voila,    voila!      Quoi    done!      N'importe,    n'im- 


176  THE  ROSE   OF   OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

porte !"  and  many  other  as  senseless  words,  and  grow 
ing  every  moment  more  hopeless  and  helpless  as  made 
moiselle  but  wept  the  more  bitterly. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  room  stood  young  Papinr 
pale  and  rigid  as  if  carved  in  stone,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
mademoiselle.  I  feared  that  for  him  too  it  had  been 
a  bitter  blow,  for  I  could  not  doubt  that  it  was  the 
announcement  of  mademoiselle's  departure  on  the 
morrow  that  had  created  such  consternation. 

The  captain  had  discreetly  turned  his  back  and  was. 
looking  out  of  the  window.  At  the  sound  of  my  en 
trance  he  turned  and  beckoned  me  to  him. 

' '  I  fear  't  will  never  do, ' '  he  whispered ;  * '  the 
maiden  is  breaking  her  heart. ' ' 

As  if  she  had  heard  his  words,  mademoiselle  lifted 
her  head,  and  though  her  face  was  tear-stained  and 
her  hair  hanging  in  disheveled  locks  about  it,  it  was 
still  the  most  beautiful  face  I  had  ever  seen. 

At  sight  of  me  she  flung  her  head  back,  and  her 
eyes  flashed.  She  extended  one  round  white  arm 
toward  me,  and  in  tones  of  bitter  scorn  she  exclaimed : 

"It  is  you,  you,  Monsieur,  who  have  done  this! 
I  will  not  leave  my  guardians  and  my  home  and  go 
away  with  you!  You  would  not  hear  of  my  going 
with  the  chevalier,  yet  he  was  a  French  gentleman, 
and  not  merely  a  pretty  boy!  " 

Madame  and  the  doctor  tried  in  vain  to  stop  her 
tirade.  She  was  in  a  fury;  such  blazing  eyes,  such 
crimson  cheeks,  and  voice  quivering  with  scorn.  For 
a  moment  I  was  abashed  and  would  have  liked  to 
slink  out  of  sight.  But  when  she  was  so  ungenerous 


"A  PRETTY  BOY!"  177 

as  to  call  me  "a  pretty  boy,"  the  fire  returned  to 
my  heart,  and  I  too  drew  myself  up  proudly. 

"Mademoiselle,  listen  to  me!"  I  said  sternly.  "I 
have  but  a  few  minutes  ago  spared  the  chevalier's  life 
when  I  had  him  at  my  mercy,  and  shown  him  the  way 
to  escape  from  your  friends  here,  who  were  running 
at  the  sound  of  his  shot,  and  who,  had  they  found  him 
in  Dr.  Saugrain's  grounds,  would  have  made  short 
work  with  him,  I  fear."  (I  could  not  but  note  out  of 
the  corner  of  my  eye  while  I  was  speaking  the  quick 
start  of  young  Papin  at  this  announcement,  the  eager 
interest  of  my  captain,  and  the  doctor's  look  of 
dismay.) 

"  I  spared  him,  and  I  told  him  that  I  spared  him, 
only  because  you  had  begged  me  to  do  my  utmost  to 
save  him  if  he  should  ever  fall  into  my  power.  I 
cannot  believe  that  he  would  have  treated  me  or  any 
one  of  your  friends  with  the  like  courtesy.  He  is  now 
well  on  his  way  to  Cape  Girardeau,  but  I  think  he  is 
not  gone  so  far  but  that  he  can  be  easily  overtaken. 
Black  Hawk  is  ready  to  set  out  at  once;  indeed,  it  is 
with  much  difficulty  that  I  have  restrained  him  from 
so  doing.  Then,  if  you  desire  it,  and  Dr.  Saugrain  and 
madame  approve,  you  can  return  to  France  under  the 
chevalier's  protection." 

I  lifted  my  hand  as  the  doctor  and  his  wife  both 
started  to  speak. 

"  Nay,  my  friends,  permit  that  mademoiselle  first 
tells  me  her  pleasure." 

Then,  as  mademoiselle  (whose  eyes  were  no  longer 
flashing  with  scorn,  but  regarding  me  with  the  same 

12 


178  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

wonder  I  had  seen  in  them  before)  did  not  speak,  I 
said,  if  possible  with  greater  sternness: 

"  Speak  at  once,  mademoiselle :  shall  we  send  for  the 
chevalier  and  bring  him  back?  There  is  no  time  to 
be  lost;  every  minute  is  carrying  him  away  from 
you  as  fast  as  a  very  good  pair  of  legs  for  running 
can  take  him/' 

I  hope  I  did  not  exceed  the  limits  of  courtesy  in  so 
speaking  of  the  chevalier,  but  it  was  hard  to  resist  a 
little  fling  at  the  "  French  gentleman  "  to  whom  the 
"  pretty  boy  "  had  been  so  disparagingly  compared. 
I  caught  a  twinkle  in  the  doctor's  eye  and  a  fleeting 
smile  on  young  Papin's  face  and  on  my  captain's,  but 
I  looked  only  at  mademoiselle.  She  was  meek  enough 
now,  but  she  no  longer  looked  at  me;  her  dark  lashes 
were  sweeping  her  cheek. 

"  You  need  not  send  for  him,"  she  said. 

"  Then,  mademoiselle,"  I  went  on,  a  little  more 
gently,  "  it  seems  to  me  and  to  your  friends  that  the 
only  other  way  to  return  to  France  is  the  way  we  have 
planned.  You  will  be  as  safe  under  Captain  Clarke's 
care  as  you  would  be  under  Dr.  Saugrain's.  He  will 
take  you  to  his  sister,  Mrs.  0 'Fallen,  who  will  be  as 
a  mother  to  you,  until  a  suitable  escort  can  be  found 
for  you  to  New  York  to  place  you  under  Mr.  Living 
ston's  care.  As  for  me,  I  shall  not  in  any  way  annoy 
you :  you  need  not  know  I  am  on  the  boat ;  and  as 
soon  as  you  are  placed  in  Mrs.  O'Fallon's  care  I  shall 
say  good-by  to  you  forever,  and  continue  my  journey 
east,  since  it  is  indeed  time  I  should  be  starting  home 
ward.  Dr.  and  Madame  Saugrain  will  assure  you  that 


"A  PRETTY  BOY!"  179 

this  is  the  most  feasible  plan,  and  I  hope  once  more 
that  you  will  not  be  deterred  from  accepting  it  by 
any  fear  of  annoyance  from  me.  There  will  be 
none.  If  you  decide  to  go  with  us,  we  must  make 
an  early  start,  and  there  will  be  many  things  for  me 
to  attend  to.  Captain  Clarke  will  inform  me  of  your 
decision,  and  I  will  see  Dr.  Saugrain  and  madame 
in  the  morning.  Till  then,  I  wish  you  all  a  very  good 
night." 

I  made  my  grand  bow,  turned  quickly,  and  left  the 
room,  though  Dr.  Saugrain  and  his  wife  both  tried 
to  stay  me,  and  young  Papin  sprang  forward  with  an 
eager  hand  to  prevent  me. 

I  was  bitterly  angry,  and  more  hurt  and  disap 
pointed  than  angry.  Outside  I  strode  furiously  up 
and  down  in  the  snow,  calling  myself  a  fool  that  I 
should  care.  Mademoiselle  might  be  a  great  lady  in 
France,  I  said  to  myself,  but  to  me  she  had  shown  her 
self  only  a  fickle,  capricious,  silly  maiden.  But  even 
as  I  so  spoke  to  myself  my  heart  revolted.  I  saw  her 
once  more  weeping  in  madame 's  arms,  and  I  began  to 
think  it  was  only  natural  and  commendable  in  her  that 
she  should  be  so  stirred  at  the  thought  of  leaving 
friends  who  had  been  so  good  to  her,  and  that  I  had 
been  much  harder  with  her  than  was  well. 

And  at  last,  as  I  began  to  walk  myself  into  a  calmer 
frame  of  mind,  I  could  have  wished  that  I  had  not 
made  that  rash  promise  to  keep  myself  out  of  her  sight 
on  the  boat.  My  word  was  given  and  I  would  have  to 
stick  to  it,  but  in  my  own  room,  as  I  listened  to  the 
murmur  of  voices  still  going  on  in  the  room  below  ine, 


180  THE   ROSE   OF   OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

I  thought  no  longer  with  anger,  but  sadly  enough,  of 
the  long  delightful  tete-a-tetes  with  mademoiselle  I 
had  dreamed  of  when  I  had  first  planned  this  trip 
on  the  Great  River. 

A  bright  drop  suddenly  fell  on  my  hand.  I  brushed 
my  eyes  angrily. 

<c  Domtiferation !  "  I  whispered  furiously  to  myself. 
* '  Mademoiselle  was  right !  A  pretty  boy  indeed  1  ' ' 


CHAPTER   XIV 

A   CREOLE   LOVE-SONG 

"  So  sweetly  she  bade  me  adieu, 
I  thought  that  she  bade  me  return." 

FOR  three  days  we  had  been  floating  down  the 
Great  River,  and  for  three  days  I  had  kept  my 
word.  Mademoiselle  had  not  heen  annoyed  by  me; 
she  had  hardly  seen  me.  Much  to  my  captain's  vexa 
tion,  I  had  refused  to  take  my  meals  with  him  and 
mademoiselle,  though  our  cozy  table  of  three  had  been 
one  of  the  brightest  parts  of  my  dream  when  I  was 
planning  this  trip. 

It  was  nearing  the  supper-hour  on  the  evening  of 
this  third  day.  The  men  were  making  ready  to  tie 
-up  for  the  night  (for  navigation  on  the  river  at  night 
was  a  dangerous  matter),  and  for  the  hundredth  time 
I  was  wishing  with  all  my  heart  that  I  had  not  been 
so  rash  as  to  make  that  promise  to  keep  out  of  made 
moiselle 's  way.  The  vision  of  a  hot  supper  comfort 
ably  served  in  her  warm  and  cozy  cabin  was  of  itself 
sufficiently  enticing,  as  all  my  meals  since  coming 
aboard  had  been  brought  to  me  in  any  out-of-the-way 
corner  of  the  deck,  and  I  had  found  them  but  cold 
•comfort.  Not  that  my  resolution  was  weakening, 

181 


182  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

though  my  captain  let  no  meal-hour  pass  without 
doing  his  best  to  weaken  it,  and  more  than  once  had 
brought  me  a  message  from  mademoiselle  herself  beg 
ging  me  to  join  them  at  table.  No ;  I  was  as  fixed  as 
ever,  and,  in  a  way,  enjoying  my  own  discomfort,  since 
to  pose  as  a  martyr  ever  brings  with  it  a  certain 
satisfaction  which  is  its  own  reward. 

The  weather  had  been  clear  and  mild  up  to  this 
time;  but  this  evening  an  icy  sleet  was  beginning  to 
fall,  and  I  glanced  at  mademoiselle's  cabin  window, 
brightly  lighted  and  eloquent  of  warmth  and  dryness, 
and  fetched  a  great  sigh  as  I  looked.  A  voice  at  my 
elbow  said : 

"  Monsieur  is  sad?— or  lonely,  perhaps?  ' 

I  started,  for  I  had  supposed  myself  entirely  alone 
on  that  end  of  the  boat— the  men  all  busy  with  their 
tying-up  preparations  forward,  and  mademoiselle  and 
the  captain  in  the  cabin.  I  lifted  my  hat  and  bowed 
ceremoniously. 

"  Neither,  Mademoiselle." 

Mademoiselle  hesitated.  I  saw  she  felt  repulsed, 
and  I  secretly  gloried  in  her  embarrassment.  Neither 
would  I  help  her  out  by  adding  another  word ;  I  waited 
for  what  she  might  say  further. 

' '  Monsieur, ' '  she  said  presently,  ' '  you  have  shown 
me  much  kindness  in  the  past,  and  done  me  great 
service.  I  would  like  to  have  you  know  that  I  am  not 
ungrateful." 

"  I  do  not  desire  your  gratitude,  Mademoiselle," 
I  said  coldly  (though  it  hurt  me  to  speak  so  when  she 
was  so  evidently  trying  to  be  friendly  with  me). 


A  CREOLE  LOVE-SONG  183 

"  No   gentleman   could   have   done   less,    even   if  lie 
were  not  a  French  gentleman." 

The  light  from  her  cabin  window  fell  full  upon 
her.  I  could  see  that  she  colored  quickly  at  my  retort, 
and  half  started  to  go  away,  but  turned  back  again. 

11  Monsieur,"  she  said  earnestly,  "  I  have  a  very 
humble  apology  to  make  to  you.  I  hope  you  will  for 
give  me  for  my  rude  and  wicked  speech.  I  was 
beside  myself  with  sorrow  at  the  thought  of  being 
so  suddenly  torn  from  my  friends,  and  for  the  time 
nothing  else  weighed  with  me,  not  even  that  you 
had  just  saved  my  life  at  the  peril  of  your  own.  Ah, 
how  could  I  have  been  so  base !  I  wonder  not  that 
you  will  not  even  look  at  so  mean  a  creature,  and  you 
do  well  to  shun  her  as  if  she  were  vile. ' ' 

No  man  could  have  resisted  her  sweet  humility. 
For  a  moment  all  my  anger  melted. 

"  Mademoiselle,  do  not  apologize  to  me!  "  I  cried. ( 
"  If  there  are  any  apologies  to  be  made,  it  is  I  who 
should  make  them  for  not  knowing  how  to  under 
stand  and  appreciate  what  you  felt." 

A  quick  radiance  sprang  into  her  eyes,  and  with  a 
childlike  abandon  she  extended  both  her  hands  to  me. 

"  Then  you  forgive  me?  "  she  cried. 

I  took  one  hand  and  held  it  in  both  mine,  and  as  I 
bent  my  knee  I  lifted  it  to  my  lips. 

"  If  I  am  forgiven,  my  Queen,"  I  answered  softly. 

Her  dark  eyes,  tender  and  glorious,  looked  down  into 
mine.  For  a  moment  I  forgot  she  was  a  great  lady  in 
France ;  to  me  she  was  only  the  most  bewitching  and 
adorable  maiden  in  the  wide  world.  She  was  wearing 


184  THE   ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

a  heavy  capote  to  shield  her  from  the  weather,  but  the 
hood  had  fallen  slightly  back,  and  the  falling  sleet 
had  spangled  the  little  fringe  of  curls  about  her 
face  with  diamonds  that  sparkled  in  the  candle-shine, 
but  were  not  half  so  bright  as  her  starry  eyes.  I 
could  have  knelt  forever  on  the  icy  deck  if  I  might 
have  gazed  forever  into  their  heavenly  depths.  But 
in  a  minute  she  let  the  white  lids  fall  over  them. 

"  Rise,  Monsieur,"  she  said  gently.  "  You  are 
forgiven,  but  on  one  condition." 

' '  Name  it,  my  Queen !  ' '  And  I  rose  to  my  feet, 
but  still  held  her  hand.  "  No  condition  can  be  too 
hard." 

* '  That  you  come  to  supper  with  us  to-night,  and  to 
every  meal  while  I  am  on  your  boat. ' ' 

The  condition  fetched  me  back  to  earth  with  a  shock. 
I  remembered  all  the  cause,  and  I  answered  moodily : 

' '  My  word  has  been  given,  Mademoiselle ;  I  cannot 
go  back  on  my  word." 

"  Your  word  was  given  to  me,  and  I  absolve  you 
from  it,"  she  said. 

"  But  in  the  presence  of  others,"  I  objected.  "  I 
am  bound  by  it,  unless  I  be  shamed  before  them." 

"  Only  your  captain  is  here,"  she  said,  still  gently; 
'"  and  he,  too,  urges  it." 

But  still  I  was  obdurate.  Then  at  last  she  drew 
away  her  hand  and  lifted  her  head  proudly. 

"Your  Queen  commands  you!"  she  said  haughtily, 
and  turned  and  walked  away.  Yet  she  walked  but 
slowly.  Perhaps  she  thought  I  would  overtake  her, 
or  call  her  back  and  tell  her  I  had  yielded.  But  I 


A  CREOLE  LOVE-SONG  185 

was  still  fighting  with  my  stubborn  pride,  and  let  her 
go.  I  watched  her  close  her  cabin  door,  then  for  five 
minutes  I  strode  rapidly  up  and  down  the  slippery 
deck. 

"Your  Queen  commands  you!"  I  thrilled  at  her 
words.  My  Queen !  Yes,  but  only  if  I  were  her 
king.  Now  that  I  was  away  from  her,  and  her  glowing 
eyes  were  not  melting  my  heart  to  softest  wax,  I 
was  resolved  never  again  to  submit  to  her  tyranny  and 
caprice.  I  would  go  to  supper,  because  she  com 
manded  it;  but  I  would  never  for  a  moment  forget 
that  she  was  a  great  lady  of  France,  and  I  a  proud 
citizen  of  America— too  proud  to  woo  where  I  could 
only  meet  with  scorn. 

So  I  went  to  my  cabin  and  made  a  careful  toilet,  and 
when  Yorke  came  to  call  me  to  supper,  I  presented 
myself  in  mademoiselle's  cabin.  I  had  not  been  in  it 
since  she  had  come  aboard,  and,  though  I  had  carefully 
planned  and  arranged  every  detail  of  it  for  her  com 
fort,  I  would  not  have  known  it  for  the  same  place. 
What  she  had  done  to  it  I  know  not;  a  touch  here, 
a  touch  there,  such  as  women's  fingers  know  how  to 
give,  and  the  bare  and  rough  boat's  cabin  had  become 
a  dainty  little  boudoir.  The  round  table,  draped  in 
snowy  linen,  with  places  set  for  three;  the  silver  and 
glass  shining  in  the  rays  from  two  tall  candles ;  Yorke 
and  mademoiselle's  maid  Clotilde  bringing  in  each 
a  smoking  dish  to  set  upon  it;  and  mademoiselle 
standing  beside  it  like  the  glowing  heart  of  a  ruby, 
her  dark  beauty  well  set  off  by  a  gown  of  crimson 
paduasoy,  with  rich  lace  through  which  the  graceful 


186  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

neck  and  rounded  arms  gleamed  white  and  soft :  it  all 
looked  to  me  like  a  picture  from  one  of  Master  Ti 
tian's  canvases,  and  I  could  hardly  believe  that  if  I 
should  look  through  the  closely  drawn  curtains  I 
would  see  the  rough  and  dirty  decks  of  our  barge, 
and,  beyond,  the  dark  forest  of  the  Illinois  shore, 
where  even  now  hostile  savages  might  be  lurking, 
ready  to  spring  upon  us  with  blood-curdling  yells. 

The  captain  was  already  there,  chatting  gaily  with 
mademoiselle  as  I  came  in,  and  he  had  the  delicacy  to 
make  his  greeting  of  me  as  natural  and  unsurprised  as 
if  I  had  never  been  absent  from  the  little  board,  while 
mademoiselle  added  a  touch  of  gracious  cordiality  to 
hers. 

I  was  on  my  mettle.  Determined  that  never  again, 
even  to  herself,  should  she  call  me  a  boy,  I  summoned 
to  my  aid  all  the  savoir-faire  I  could  command.  I  was 
(at  least,  in  my  own  estimation,  and  I  hoped  also  in 
hers)  the  elegant  man  of  the  world,  discoursing  at  ease 
on  every  fashionable  topic,  and,  to  my  own  amaze 
ment,  parrying  every  thrust  of  her  keen  repartee,  and 
sometimes  sending  her  as  keen  in  return.  I  think  the 
situation  had  gone  to  my  head.  Certainly  I  had  never 
before  thought  myself  a  brilliant  fellow,  but  when  I 
rose  to  make  my  bow  to  mademoiselle  (and  it  was 
indeed  a  very  grand  one),  I  hoped  that  even  in  her 
mind  I  would  not  suffer  by  comparison  with  any 
French  gentleman,  no,  though  it  were  the  chevalier 
himself. 

I  did  not  see  mademoiselle  again  until  the  midday 
meal  next  day;  for  all  the  morning  I  was  busy  with 


A  CREOLE  LOVE-SONG  187 

the  men,  making  the  difficult  and  dangerous  turn 
from  the  Great  River  into  the  Ohio,  past  Fort  Mas- 
sac.  Once  in  the  Ohio,  there  was  no  surcease  from 
hard  work — poling,  paddling,  or  cordelling,  sometimes 
all  three  together,  to  climb  the  rushing  stream. 

Punctually  at  the  noon-hour  I  presented  myself  at 
table,  and  again  at  supper,  and  my  good  star  did  not 
desert  me.  Quip  and  repartee  and  merry  tale  and 
polished  phrase  were  all  at  my  tongue's  end,  and  no 
one  could  have  been  more  amazed  than  I  at  my  own 
brilliancy. 

But  I  lingered  not  a  moment  after  the  meal  was 
over,  and  I  never  saw  mademoiselle  between  times. 
If  she  came  out  to  take  the  air  on  deck,  I  was  hard 
at  work  with  the  men,  sometimes  taking  my  turn  at 
paddling,  sometimes,  though  not  often,  at  poling ;  but 
our  crew  of  French  Canadians  were  better  at  that 
than  I.  Indeed,  there  are  no  such  fellows  in  the 
world  for  navigating  these  dangerous  Western  waters. 

The  weather  had  grown  mild,  and  often  in  the  even 
ing  I  envied  Yorke  (who  had  straightway,  of  course, 
made  desperate  love  to  Clotilde,  who  was  old  enough 
to  be  his  mother) ,  sitting  in  the  bow  of  the  boat  and 
thrumming  his  banjo  lightly  as  he  sang  her  some  cre- 
ole  love-song  he  had  picked  up  in  St.  Louis. 

Our  trip  was  fast  drawing  to  a  close.  The  last  even 
ing  on  the  river  had  arrived.  We  would  tie  up  one 
more  night ;  all  hands  at  the  cordelle  and  the  poles,  we 
would  reach  Mrs.  0 'Fallen's  by  noon,  in  time  for 
dinner.  I  had  determined  not  to  linger  there  at  all. 
I  should  go  on,  the  same  afternoon,  to  my  uncle's 


188  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

plantation,  not  many  miles  away,  and  the  next  day 
start  for  the  East.  I  had  told  mademoiselle  I  would 
say  good-by  to  her  forever  when  we  reached  Mrs. 
O 'Fallen's,  but  in  my  own  mind  I  was  saying  good- 
by  to  her  now.  It  had  been  for  several  days  that 
I  had  felt  the  weight  of  this  approaching  hour,  and 
my  brilliance  had  gradually  departed.  I  had  grown 
duller  and  quieter  at  each  succeeding  meal,  and  made 
moiselle,  too,  had  grown  quieter  (she  could  never  be 
dull) .  Sometimes  I  fancied  she  looked  sad,  and  once 
I  was  sure  I  recognized  the  trace  of  tears  in  her  beau 
tiful  eyes.  There  was  nothing  strange  in  that;  it 
would  have  been  strange  indeed  if  she  could  have  left 
home  and  friends,  and  started  on  a  long  and  danger 
ous  journey  (with  no  companion  but  the  faithful  ne 
gro  woman  who  had  been  nurse  and  lady's-maid  and 
trusted  friend  for  ten  long  years,  but  who  was  still 
but  servant  and  slave),  and  had  not  often  been  over 
come  with  sadness.  Indeed,  there  were  times,  when 
she  was  merriest  at  the  table,  when  I  had  mentally  ac 
cused  her  of  heartlessness  as  I  thought  of  the  two 
fond  old  people  mourning  for  her  in  Emigre's  Retreat. 
So,  though  I  would  have  liked  to  attribute  some  of 
mademoiselle's  sadness  to  an  approaching  separa 
tion,  I  had  no  grounds  for  so  doing,  and  I  scoffed  at 
myself  for  the  attempt. 

That  last  night  at  supper  I  made  a  desperate  effort 
to  be  my  gayest,  but  it  was  uphill  work,  and  the  more 
so  because  neither  the  captain  nor  mademoiselle  sec 
onded  my  efforts  with  any  heartiness ;  so  when  supper 
was  ended,  feeling  that  the  hour  had  at  last  come,  I 


A  CREOLE  LOVE-SONG  189" 

stood  as  mademoiselle  rose  from  her  seat,  and  instead 
of  excusing  myself  at  once,  as  had  been  my  custom,  I 
lingered. 

" Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "we  have  had  our  last  meal 
aboard  together  (God  prospering  our  voyage),  and  I 
desire  to  thank  you  for  your  courtesy,  and  to  say  to 
you  that  whatever  there  may  have  been  in  our  inter 
course  during  our  brief  acquaintance  not  pleasant  to 
either  of  us  to  hold  in  remembrance,  I  hope  you  will 
banish  it  from  your  memory,  as  I  shall  from  mine.  I 
shall  think  of  these  weeks  always  as  among  the  bright 
est  of  my  life,  and  perhaps,  had  I  been  a  chevalier  of 
France  instead  of  an  American  boy,  I  should  not  so- 
easily  have  said  good-by  to  the  Rose  of  St.  Louis;  it 
would  have  been  au  revoir  instead  !" 

I  was  standing  as  I  said  it  all  formally,  with  the  air 
of  one  making  pretty  compliments :  for  I  did  not  wish 
mademoiselle  to  know  how  every  word  was  from  the 
depths  of  my  heart ;  nor  would  I  have  lightly  betrayed 
myself  before  my  captain,  who  was  not  apparently 
listening,  but  had  turned  to  give  some  instructions  to 
Yorke. 

Mademoiselle's  color  came  and  went  as  I  spoke. 
She  did  not  answer  me  for  a  moment,  and  when  she- 
did  it  was  in  a  low  tone,  and  she  seemed  to  speak  with 
effort : 

"Monsieur,  you  are  ungenerous!  You  will  never 
forgive  my  unhappy  speech.  Permit  me  to  say  you 
have  taught  me  that  a  chevalier  of  France  may  be 
outshone  by  an  American  gentleman  in  bravery,  man 
liness,  truth,  and  honor— in  every  virtue  except  the 


190  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

doubtful  one  of  knowing  how  to  utter  pleasant  insin 
cerities  to  us  maidens.  And  I  will  not  say  good-by. 
Am  I  not  to  see  you  again  ? ' ' 

"I  will  certainly  see  you  in  the  morning,  Mademoi 
selle,  but  there  may  be  no  time  for  more  than  a  word, 
and  so  I  take  this  opportunity  to  say  good-by." 

"I  will  not  say  good-by,  Monsieur"— with  the  old 
wilful  toss  of  the  head.  "I  will  tell  your  captain  he 
is  not  to  let  you  go  back  to  Philadelphia  so  soon.  But 
no  matter  where  you  go,  I  will  never  say  good-by;  it 
shall  always  be  au  revoir." 

She  smiled  up  at  me  with  such  bewitching  grace 
that  perforce  I  smiled  back  at  her,  and  if  she  had  but 
asked  me  this  evening,  as  she  had  on  many  others,  to 
linger  in  her  cozy  cabin  for  a  game  of  piquet,  I  would 
not  have  had  the  courage  to  say  no.  But  she  did  not 
ask  me,  and,  much  as  I  longed  to  stay,  there  was  no 
thing  for  me  to  do  but  to  pick  up  my  hat  and  say, 
with  the  best  grace  I  could : 

"I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart,  Mademoiselle,  and, 
for  to-night  at  least,  au  revoir ! ' ' 

An  hour  later  my  captain  and  I  were  leaning  on  the 
rail  in  the  stern  of  the  boat,  looking  up  at  the  tree- 
crowned  bluffs  standing  dark  against  the  moonlight 
and  listening  to  the  soft  lapping  of  the  water  against 
the  boat's  sides.  We  did  not  realize  that  we  were  hid 
den  by  a  great  pile  of  peltries,  as  high  as  our  heads, 
which  Captain  Clarke  was  taking  back  to  Kentucky 
with  him  to  sell  on  commission  for  Pierre  Chouteau, 
until  we  heard  voices.  Mademoiselle  and  Clotilde  had 
evidently  found  a  seat  on  the  other  side  of  the  pile  of 


A  CREOLE  LOVE-SONG  191 

pelts,  and  mademoiselle  was  speaking  in  plaintive 
tone: 

' '  And  they  would  not  let  me  bring  Leon  with  me ! 
He  at  least  would  have  loved  me  and  been  a  companion 
and  protector  when  all  the  world  forsake  me." 

Then  Clotilde  's  rich  negro  voice : 

"Mademoiselle,  I  find  out  why  they  not  let  you 
bring  Leon.  Mr.  Yorke  tell  me  last  night.  Leon  shot, 
the  night  before  we  come  away.*' 

There  was  a  heartrending  cry,  and  then  a  torrent  of 
swift  French : 

"Leon  shot!  My  Leon!  Why  have  they  not  told 
me  ?  Oh,  the  villains !  Who  shot  him,  Clotilde  ?  My 
poor  angel !  My  Leon !  No  one  left  to  love  your  poor 
mistress!"  And  much  more  that  I  cannot  recall,  I 
was  so  excited  and  angry  that  that  rascal  Yorke  should 
have  caused  her  such  needless  pain.  But  every  word 
of  Clotilde 's  next  speech  was  graven  on  my  heart  as 
with  a  knife  of  fire. 

"Mr.  Yorke  say  they  all  hear  the  shot,  and  they  all 
run  out  to  see  what  the  matter,  and  there  stood  the 
lieutenant  with  pistol  in  his  hand,  and  Yorke  say  he 
don'  think  he  shoot  him,  but—  " 

Clotilde  had  no  chance  to  say  another  word. 

"Shoot  my  Leon!  He!  Ah,  I  could  not  have  be 
lieved  such  baseness!  He  never  forgave  him  for 
throwing  him  down-stairs !  His  last  act  before  leav 
ing  Emigre's  Retreat!  Oh,  mon  Dieu,  what  perfidy! 
What  a  monster!" 

And  every  word  was  so  interrupted  with  sighs  and 
moans  and  sobs  as  would  have  melted  a  heart  of  stone. 


192  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

As  for  me,  I  was  nearly  turned  to  stone,  such  horror 
did  I  feel  that  she  should  think  me  guilty  of  so  base  a 
deed.  I  had  no  thought  of  acting  in  my  self-defense,, 
but  my  captain  started  up  at  once  with  a  quick  excla 
mation,  and,  seizing  my  arm,  dragged  me  around  the 
pile  of  pelts.  There  was  mademoiselle,  seated  on  a 
low  bundle  of  them,  weeping  as  if  her  heart  would 
break,  and  Clotilde  trying  in  vain  to  stay  the  torrent 
she  had  set  loose. 

"Mademoiselle,"  said  the  captain,  quickly,  "there 
has  been  some  terrible  mistake.  It  was  the  chevalier 
who  shot  Leon;  it  was  this  lad"  (laying  his  arm  affec 
tionately  across  my  shoulders)  "who  saved  his  life." 

Now  half  the  joy  of  this  speech  to  me  was  taken  out 
of  it  by  the  captain's  way  of  treating  me  as  a  boy— I 
think  the  captain  never  thought  of  me  in  any  other 
light ;  and  I  made  up  my  mind  on  the  instant  that  I 
should  seize  the  very  first  opportunity  to  beg  him,  at 
least  in  mademoiselle 's  presence,  to  treat  me  as  a  man. 

But  mademoiselle  was  so  concerned  with  the  matter 
of  the  captain's  speech,  she  paid  no  heed  to  its  man 
ner;  and  it  chagrined  me  not  a  little  that  her  first 
thought  was  for  Leon,  and  not  that  I  was  innocent. 

"Saved  his  life!"  she  cried.    "Is  my  Leon  alive?" 

"He  is,  Mademoiselle,"  I  said  coldly,  "and  I  have 
every  reason  to  believe  he  is  doing  well.  My  'last  act' 
before  leaving  Emigre's  Ketreat  was  to  visit  him  in 
Narcisse's  cabin.  I  renewed  his  dressing,  and  left 
minute  instructions  as  to  his  care.  We  had  thought  to 
spare  you  this  anxiety,  Mademoiselle,  but  two  blun 
dering  servants  have  undone  our  plans." 


A  CREOLE  LOVE-SONG  193 

"Ah,  Monsieur,"  cried  mademoiselle,  impetuously, 
springing  to  her  feet  and  extending  both  her  hands  to 
me  in  her  pretty  French  fashion,  "how  unjust  I  have 
been  to  you !  How  can  I  ever  thank  you  enough  for 
your  care  of  my  poor  Leon  ?  Your  last  act  in  the  cold 
and  dark  of  the  early  morning,  and  the  hurry  of  de 
parture,  to  see  that  my  Leon  was  taken  care  of,  and  I 
have  accused  you  of  making  it  one  of  base  revenge! 
Ah,  Monsieur,  can  you  ever  forgive  me?"  half  whis 
pering. 

I  had  taken  her  hands  and  was  holding  them  as  I 
looked  down  into  her  radiant  eyes.  I  bent  low  and 
kissed  them  both,  first  one  and  then  the  other,  as  I  said 
(very  low,  so  that  the  captain  and  Clotilde  should  not 
hear)  : 

"Mademoiselle,  I  can  forgive  you  everything." 

But  I  needed  not  to  speak  so  low,  for  when  I  lifted 
my  head  the  captain  and  Clotilde  had  both  disap 
peared.  And  whither  they  had  gone,  or  why,  I  neither 
knew  nor  cared.  For  now  a  mad  intoxication  seized 
me.  This  was  the  last  evening  I  should  ever  spend 
with  mademoiselle  in  this  world;  why  should  I  not 
enjoy  it  to  the  full  ?  For  the  hundredth  time  we  had 
had  our  misunderstanding  and  it  had  cleared  away; 
now  there  should  be  no  more  misunderstandings,  no 
more  coldness,  nothing  but  joy  in  the  warm  sunshine 
of  her  smiles. 

So  I  begged  her  once  more  to  be  seated  and  to  atone 
for  all  that  was  unkind  in  the  past  by  letting  me  talk 
to  her.  There  could  have  been  no  better  place,  outside 
of  her  cozy  cabin,  for  this  long-dreamed-of  tete-a-tete, 

13 


194  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

which  now  at  last  was  to  have  a  realization,  than  this 
she  had  herself  chosen.  The  pile  of  pelts  at  her  back 
kept  off  the  east  wind,  the  young  moon  in  the  west 
shone  full  upon  her  face,  so  that  I  could  feast  my  eyes 
upon  its  glorious  beauty  (for  the  last  time,  I  said  to 
myself)  and  interpret  every  changing  expression. 

And  yet,  just  at  first,  I  was  afraid  I  was  going  to 
be  disappointed,  after  all.  Mademoiselle  was  embar 
rassed  and  constrained,  and  it  was  I— I,  the  gauche 
and  unsophisticated  ''boy*'— who  had  to  gently  dis 
arm  her  fears  and  lead  her  back  to  her  bright  and 
natural  way.  And  this  is  how  I  did  it.  Mademoiselle 
had  seated  herself  at  my  request,  almost  awkwardly, 
if  awkwardness  were  possible  to  her,  so  much  afraid 
was  she  she  was  not  doing  quite  the  proper  thing. 

"I  cannot  imagine  what  has  become  of  Clotilde," 
she  said  nervously.  ' '  I  did  not  send  her  away. ' ' 

"I  think  she  has  gone  to  find  Yorke  and  set  him 
right  about  Leon, ' '  I  answered,  smiling. 

She  smiled  slightly  in  return,  but  still  with  some 
emb  arr  assment . 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "have  you  observed  that 
Yorke  has  been  making  himself  very  agreeable  to  Clo 
tilde?" 

"What  folly!"  she  exclaimed.  "Clotilde  is  an  old 
woman.  I  spoke  to  her  about  it  quite  seriously  to 
day." 

* '  And  what  did  she  say,  Mademoiselle  ? ' ' 

1 '  She  said  that  she  found  Yorke  most  entertaining. 
'  One  must  be  amused, '  were  her  words,  and  she  made 
me  feel  very  young  with  her  worldly  wisdom. 


A  CREOLE  LOVE-SONG  195 

do  not  contemplate  matrimony,  Mam'selle,  but  Mr. 
Yorke  and  I  both  think  there  may  be  an  affinity  of 
spirit,  regardless  of  difference  in  age' !  I  was  amazed 
at  her  philosophical  attitude." 

"How  did  you  reply  to  her,  Mademoiselle?" 

"She  quite  took  my  breath  away,  but  I  only  said, 
'  Clotilde,  you  will  oblige  me  by  seeing  as  little  as  pos 
sible  of  Yorke  on  the  remainder  of  the  trip.'  I  had 
fully  intended  to  keep  her  with  me  this  evening,  and 
now  she  has  slipped  away.  I  think  I  ought  to  go  and 
find  her,"  half  rising  as  she  spoke. 

"By  no  means,"  I  answered  quickly.  "Indeed,  I 
am  quite  on  Clotilde 's  side." 

"On  Clotilde 's  side!  Impossible,  Monsieur!  Such 
arrant  nonsense ! ' ' 

All  this  time  I  had  been  standing,  for  from  a  maid 
enly  shyness  (rather  new  in  her,  and  which  I  liked) 
she  would  not  ask  me  to  sit  beside  her,  and  there  was 
no  other  seat.  Now  I  said : 

' '  Mademoiselle,  if  you  will  permit  me  to  share  your 
bundle  of  pelts,  I  believe  I  can  prove  to  you  that  it  is 
not  such  arrant  nonsense,  after  all." 

"Certainly,  Monsieur,"  a  little  stiffly;  "I  am  sorry 
to  have  kept  you  standing  so  long. ' ' 

She  drew  her  skirts  a  little  aside,  and  I  sat  down, 
quite  at  the  other  end  of  the  bundle  of  pelts,  but 
nearer  to  her  than  I  had  been  in  many  long  days. 
Then,  in  a  purposely  didactic  and  argumentative  way, 
I  cited  to  her  all  the  instances  in  history  I  could  think 
of,  winding  up  with  Cleopatra  and  Ninon  de  1  'Enclos, 
until  by  entering  into  the  argument  she  had  entirely 


196  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

forgotten  herself  and  her  embarrassment.  Then  sud 
denly  into  a  little  break  in  our  conversation  there  came 
the  clear  whinny  of  Fatima.  She  was  on  the  other 
boat,  tied  close  to  ours,  and  as  we  were  in  the  stern 
and  she  in  the  bow,  she  had  no  doubt  heard  her  mas 
ter's  voice  and  was  calling  him.  I  was  greatly 
tempted  to  call  her  by  the  whistle  she  knew,  but  I  did 
not  quite  dare.  She  would  have  broken  all  possible 
bounds  to  come  to  me  in  answer  to  that  whistle,  and 
I  would  not  have  been  surprised  to  see  her  clear  the 
space  between  the  two  boats. 

' '  That  was  Fatima, ' '  mademoiselle  said,  and  sighed 
a  little. 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "and  I  think  I  could  tell  what  your 
sigh  meant." 

"Did  I  sigh?" 

"Yes,  and  it  meant,  'I  wish  it  were  Leon/  ' 

"Yes,"  she  said;  "I  was  thinking  how  much  Fa 
tima  loves  you,  and  Leon,  too,  as  soon  as  he  was  able 
to  forgive  your  disgracing  him  so.  I  think  all  dogs 
and  horses  love  you,  Monsieur. ' ' 

' '  That  is  because  I  love  them,  Mademoiselle. ' ' 

"Does  love  always  beget  love?" 

"Not  always,  Mademoiselle;  sometimes  it  begets 
scorn." 

"Then  I  suppose  the  love  dies?" 

"No,  Mademoiselle;  unhappily,  it  but  grows  the 
stronger." 

"That  is  folly,  is  it  not?" 

"Mademoiselle,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  be  a  philoso 
pher  like  Clotilde— love  has  no  regard  for  sense  or  wis- 


A  CREOLE  LOVE-SONG  197 

dom,  else  would  Yorke  love  one  of  his  own  age,  and  I 
would  love  one  of  my  own  country  and  my  own  rank." 

She  said  not  a  word  for  a  long  time,  but  sat  with 
downcast  eyes.  Suddenly  she  lifted  them,  and  they 
shone  with  a  softer  radiance  than  I  had  ever  seen  in 
them  before. 

"Of  what  were  you  thinking,  Mademoiselle?"  I 
said  gently. 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  like  the  soft  sigh 
of  a  zephyr  came  her  words :  . 

"I  was  wishing  you  were  a  chevalier  of  France." 

"And  I,  Mademoiselle,  was  wishing  you  were  a 
maiden  of  St.  Louis,  as  I  supposed  you  were  when  I 
first  saw  you." 

"I  would  not  have  been  of  your  country,  even 
then, ' '  she  said,  with  delicious  shyness,  half  looking  at 
me,  half  looking  away  in  pretty  confusion. 

"Not  now,  but  you  soon  would  be.  St.  Louis  will 
belong  to  us  some  day. ' ' 

"Never!"  She  spoke  in  hot  haste,  all  the  patriot 
firing  within  her,  and  looking  full  at  me  with  flashing 
eyes.  "St.  Louis  will  be  French  some  day,  as  it  used 
to  be,  I  believe  with  all  my  heart;  but  American, 
never!" 

"Mademoiselle,  we  had  a  wager  once.  Shall  we 
have  one  more  ? ' ' 

"Is  it  that  St.  Louis  will  one  day  be  American?" 

"Yes." 

'  *  I  am  very  willing  to  wager  on  that,  for  it  is  a  cer 
tainty  for  me.  What  shall  be  the  stakes  ? ' ' 

"Mademoiselle,  they  would  be  very  high." 


198  THE  EOSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"I  am  not  afraid." 

I  thought  for  a  moment,  and  then  I  shook  my  head. 

"Mademoiselle,  I  dare  not.  I  am  sure  St.  Louis  will 
one  day  be  ours,  but  the  time  may  be  long,  and  by  that 
day  the  worst  may  have  happened.  You  may  have 
found  your  chevalier  of  France. ' ' 

She  looked  up  at  me  in  a  quick,  startled  way,  which 
changed  gradually  to  her  old  proud  look. 

"Monsieur,  I  know  not  what  stakes  you  had  in 
mind,  but  this  I  know :  if  't  were  a  lady's  hand  it  were 
unworthy  you  and  her.  A  lady 's  hand  is  for  the  win 
ning  by  deeds  of  prowess  or  by  proof  of  worth,  not  by 
betting  for  it  as  though  't  were  a  horse  or  a  pile  of 
louis  d'or." 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  cried  in  an  agony  of  shame, 
"forgive  me,  I  beg.  Forgive  a  poor  wretch  who  saw 
no  chance  of  winning  by  prowess  or  worth,  and  who 
was  so  desperate  that  he  would  clutch  at  any  straw  to 
help  him  win  his  heart's  desire." 

Her  look  softened  at  once,  and  when  she  spoke  again 
'twas  in  her  gentlest  tones. 

"Monsieur,"  she  said,  "to-morrow  we  part,  and  it 
would  seem  there  is  but  little  chance  that  we  shall  see 
each  other  again  in  this  world.  Fate  has  placed  our 
lots  on  different  continents,  with  wide  seas  between. 
But  for  to-night  let  us  forget  that.  Let  us  think  we 
are  to  meet  every  day,  as  we  have  met  in  these  weeks, 
and  let  us  have  a  happy  memory  of  this  last  evening 
to  cherish  always. ' ' 

I  could  not  speak  for  a  moment.  Her  voice,  its 
sweet  tones  breaking  a  little  at  the  last,  unmanned  me. 


A  CREOLE  LOVE-SONG  199 

I  turned  away  my  head,  for  I  would  not  let  her  see  the 
workings  of  my  face,  nor  my  wet  eyes,  lest  she  think 
me  boyish  again.  It  was  the  sealing  of  my  doom,  but 
I  had  known  it  always.  And  there  was  a  drop  of 
sweet  amid  the  bitter  that  I  had  never  dared  hope  for. 
She,  too,  was  sad— then  she  must  care  a  little.  In  a 
minute  I  was  able  to  turn  toward  her  again  and  speak 
in  a  firm,  low  voice. 

"You  are  right,  Mademoiselle;  we  will  be  happy  to 
night.  Come,"  I  said,  rising  and  extending  my  hand 
to  her,  "let  us  go  watch  the  revelers  on  the  other  boat; 
they,  at  least,  are  troubled  by  no  useless  regrets." 

She  put  her  hand  in  mine,  and  we  went  back  by 
the  stern  rail  and  stood  watching  the  scene  below  us. 

A  plank  had  been  thrown  from  one  boat  to  the 
other  to  make  easy  communication,  and  the  crew  of 
our  boat,  with  the  exception  of  the  two  left  always 
on  guard,  had  crossed  over.  They  had  cleared  a  space 
for  dancing,  and  lighted  it  by  great  pine-knots  cut 
from  the  forest  close  by.  Yorke,  set  high  on  a  pile  of 
forage  with  his  beloved  banjo,  was  playing  such  music 
as  put  springs  into  their  heels.  Canadians  and  negroes 
were  all  dancing  together— the  Frenchmen  with  grace 
ful  agility,  the  negroes  more  clumsily,  even  gro 
tesquely,  but  with  a  rhythm  that  proved  their  musical 
ear.  Clotilde  and  a  negress  cook  were  the  only  women, 
and  greatly  in  demand  by  both  Frenchmen  and  ne 
groes.  Clotilde  rather  scorned  partners  of  her  own 
color,  and  was  choosing  only  the  best-looking  and  the 
best  dancers  of  the  white  men,  with  a  caprice  worthy 
of  her  mistress,  I  thought,  and  probably  in  imitation 


200  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

of  her.  Yorke  did  not  seem  to  mind,  but  with  the  gay 
est  good  humor  called  out  the  figures  as  he  played. 
Suddenly,  as  he  wound  up  the  last  figure  with  a 
grand  flourish,  he  beckoned  to  a  little  Canadian  who 
had  been  specially  agile  in  the  dance,  and  they  held  a 
whispered  consultation.  Then  Yorke  resigned  his 
banjo  to  him,  and,  leaping  down  into  the  middle  of  the 
floor,  seized  Clotilde  about  the  waist  without  so  much 
as  saying  ' '  By  your  leave, ' '  and  shouted : 

*  *  Choose  partners  for  a  waltz  ! ' ' 

Consternation  followed,  for  not  more  than  half  a 
dozen  had  ever  seen  the  new  French  dance.  But  when 
the  little  Canadian  started  up  with  his  witching  trois- 
temps,  Yorke  and  Clotilde  glided  off  rhythmically  to 
its  strains,  the  half-dozen  followed,  more  or  less  skil 
fully,  and  the  rest  stood  round  gazing  in  respectful 
admiration. 

Now  I  had  learned  the  waltz  at  home  in  Philadel 
phia,  but  it  had  never  been  danced  at  the  St.  Louis 
parties,  and  I  knew  not  whether  mademoiselle  knew 
the  step  or  not.  Yet  was  I  seized  with  a  great  desire 
to  follow  Yorke 's  example. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said  timidly,  "why  cannot  we 
have  a  dance  here?  See,  there  is  a  clear  space  on  the 
deck,  and  the  music  is  good." 

1 '  I  waltz  but  poorly,  Monsieur, ' '  she  answered,  look 
ing  up  at  me  with  a  bright  blush.  '  *  Madame  Saugrain 
taught  me  the  step,  but  I  have  practised  it  but 
little." 

"Then  we  will  be  the  better  matched,"  I  answered 
gaily.  But  when  I  had  put  my  arm  around  her  waist, 


A  CREOLE  LOVE-SONG  201 

and  one  of  her  beautiful  hands  rested  on  my  shoulder, 
and  I  held  the  other  in  my  firm  clasp,  I  was  seized 
with  such  trembling  at  my  boldness  in  daring  to  hold 
her  so  near  that  almost  my  feet  refused  to  move.  Yet 
as  soon  as  we  were  both  gliding  to  the  Canadian's 
music  there  was  no  longer  any  fear  in  my  heart,  only 
a  great  longing  that  the  music  might  never  cease  and 
that  we  could  go  on  forever  circling  to  its  strains. 
Wild  thoughts  whirled  in  my  b^ain.  Why  need  made 
moiselle  go  back  to  Paris?  I  believed,  as  I  bent  my 
head  and  looked  into  her  dark  eyes  uplifted  to  mine, 
that  only  a  little  persuasion  would  be  needed  to  make 
her  give  it  all  up.  And  I  said  to  myself,  "I  will  try." 

But  the  music  stopped.  Mademoiselle  gently  with 
drew  herself  from  my  encircling  arm,  and  suddenly 
cold  reason  returned.  How  could  I  dream  of  betray 
ing  Dr.  Saugrain  's  trust !  How  could  I  think  of  per 
suading  her  to  relinquish  the  glories  awaiting  her  for 
me !  And,  most  of  all,  how  could  I  dare  to  think  she 
could  be  persuaded ! 

Mademoiselle  had  thrown  off  her  capote  before  be 
ginning  to  dance;  I  picked  it  up  and  put  it  around 
her,  and  led  her  back  to  her  seat  on  the  pelts.  But  she 
would  not  sit  down. 

* l  No,  Monsieur, ' '  she  said ;  ' '  our  evening  is  over.  I 
am  going  to  my  cabin.  Will  you  send  for  Clotilde  and 
tell  her  that  I  want  her?" 

"Mademoiselle!  Mademoiselle!"  I  cried,  my  heart 
in  my  mouth  to  beg  her  not  to  leave  me  without  one 
word  of  hope.  But  then  I  stopped.  It  was  all  over; 
the  world  had  come  to  an  end. 


202  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"It  is  good-by,  then,  Mademoiselle?"  I  said  stead 
ily,  and  holding  out  my  hand  to  her. 

"No,  Monsieur,"  she  said,  with  that  voice  that  from 
the  first  time  I  heard  it  had  ever  seemed  to  me  the 
sweetest  in  the  world.  "  'T  is  au  revoir— ton  jours, 
ton  jours  au  revoir!" 

I  watched  her  close  her  cabin  door  and  turned  back 
to  my  place  by  the  rail,  black  despair  in  my  heart,  but 
just  one  little  ray  of  hope  brightening  it— her  coura 
geous  au  revoir.  Over  the  plank  came  Yorke  and  Clo- 
tilde,  and  strolled  slowly  up  the  deck  together,  Yorke 
thrumming  his  banjo  and  singing  a  Creole  love-song 
he  had  learned  in  St.  Louis : 

"  Tous  les  printemps 

Tan'  de  nouvelles, 

Tous  les  amants 

Changent  de  maitresses. 
Qu'ils  changent  qui  voudront, 
Pour  moi,  je  garde  la  mienne." 

Insensibly  my  heart  lightened.  "Pour  moi,  je  garde 
la  mienne,"  I  said  aloud,  and  added  in  a  whisper: 

"Yes— though  I  must  first  win  her,  and  win  I 
will!" 


CHAPTER  XV 


"  While  memory  watches  o'er  the  sad  review 
Of  joys  that  faded  like  the  morning  dew." 

IT  was  a  busy  morning  that  followed— no  time  for 
idle  thoughts  or  vain  regrets.  If  we  were  to  dine 
with  Mrs.  O'Fallon  at  Mulberry  Hill,  all  hands  must 
work  hard. 

A  line  of  ten  men  with  the  cordelle  was  attached  to 
each  boat  to  pull  it  up  the  stream,  and  at  the  same 
time  ten  more  on  each  boat  planted  the  great  pole  at 
the  bow,  and  then,  pushing  on  it,  walked  back  to  the 
stern,  lifted  it  out  of  the  soft  mud,  carried  it  forward 
to  the  bow,  planted  it  again  in  the  mud,  and,  pushing 
mightily,  a-gain  walked  back  to  the  stern.  In  this  way 
we  made  great  progress.  We  moved  as  fast  as  the  ten 
men  on  shore  carrying  the  oordelle  could  walk,  and 
the  men  at  the  pole  lightened  their  load  so  greatly, 
they  were  able  to  walk  at  a  good  round  pace. 

So  it  was  not  yet  quite  noon  when  the  white  walls  of 
Mulberry  House  came  in  view,  the  blue  smoke  curling 
from  its  chimneys  giving  promise  of  good  cheer  await 
ing  us.  The  men  at  the  cordelle  walked  faster,  the 
men  at  the  pole  pushed  harder,  and,  there  being  here 

203 


204  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

a  chance  to  use  them,  two  great  sweep-oars  were  fas 
tened  in  the  rowlocks,  and,  four  men  at  each  oar,  we 
went  forward  at  such  a  gait  that  the  water  curled  back 
from  our  prow  in  two  foaming  streams,  and  before 
many  minutes  we  were  running  our  nose  into  the  bank 
at  the  foot  of  Mulberry  Hill. 

Down  the  bank  came  a  long  line  of  men  and  boys, 
chiefly  negroes,  shouting  in  every  key,  and  running  to 
catch  the  ropes  our  crew  were  throwing  them,  and  ty 
ing  us  fast  to  big  stumps  left  standing  on  the  bank  for 
that  purpose. 

Foremost  to  step  foot  on  board  was  young  John 
O 'Fallen,  running  first  to  greet  his  uncle  William, 
whom  next  to  his  uncle  General  Clarke  he  thought  the 
greatest  man  on  earth,  and  then  coming  to  greet  me, 
whom  he  called  '  *  cousin ' '  in  his  kindly  Southern  fash 
ion,  for  I  could  not  claim  to  be  kin.  He  was  a  bright, 
engaging  lad  of  twelve  or  thirteen,  "with  the  manners 
of  a  chevalier  of  France,"  I  said  laughingly  to  made 
moiselle,  when  my  captain  was  bringing  him  up  to  pre 
sent  to  her.  She  was  greatly  taken  with  him  at  once, 
and  as  for  him,  't  was  a  case  of  love  at  first  sight,  and 
he  took  full  possession  of  her,  giving  me  small  chance 
to  help  her  off  the  boat  or  up  the  hill. 

At  the  top  of  the  hill,  Aunt  Fanny,  as  his  mother  al 
ways  insisted  I  should  call  her,  was  waiting  for  us. 
She  kissed  me  on  each  cheek  and  called  me  "my  boy" 
in  a  manner  that  made  me  feel  very  young  indeed. 
Much  as  I  loved  her,  I  could  have  wished  that  in  made 
moiselle's  presence  she  had  treated  me  as  one  too  old 
for  such  gracious  liberties.  But  mademoiselle  seemed 


"AU  REVOIR"  205 

not  to  notice  her  greeting  to  me ;  she  had  eyes  only  for 
the  beautiful  and  charming  woman  and  her  manly 
little  son.  Indeed,  I  felt  so  much  left  out  in  the  cold 
(for,  after  the  manner  of  women,  the  two  instantly 
made  violent  love  to  each  other)  that  I  was  not  sorry 
to  find  letters  awaiting  me  from  my  uncle,  inclosing 
letters  from  home  that  required  my  instant  attention. 
When  I  had  read  them  I  knew  not  whether  to  be  sorry 
or  glad.  I  had  fully  intended  to  make  no  stay  at  all  at 
Mulberry  Hill,  but  go  on  at  once  to  my  uncle 's;  but 
now  that  there  was  no  chance  left  me, — that  marching 
orders  I  dared  not  disobey  ordered  me  East  at  once, — 
I  realized  that  lurking  in  the  depths  of  my  heart  had 
been  a  secret  hope  that  something  would  happen  to 
delay  me  longer  in  mademoiselle 's  society. 

I  was  at  once  busy  with  preparations  for  a  more 
hasty  departure  than  I  had  expected,  so  that  I  saw 
neither  Mrs.  0 'Fallen  nor  mademoiselle  again  until 
we  were  seated  at  the  long  table  in  the  great  dining- 
room  overlooking  the  river,  which  here  makes  a  wide 
and  graceful  sweep  to  the  south.  The  warm  winter 
sun  was  flooding  the  room  through  its  many  windows, 
lighting  up  the  table  with  its  brave  show  of  silver  and 
glass  and  snowy  linen,  and  by  its  cheery  glow  warm 
ing  all  hearts  and  setting  all  tongues  free,  so  that  there 
was  a  pleasant  confusion  of  talk,  such  as  a  hostess 
dearly  loves.  It  was  a  bright  and  happy  scene,  and 
every  face  was  smiling  and  every  heart  was'  gay  save 
one ;  for  I  could  not  hope  that  mademoiselle 's  bright 
smile  and  beaming  glance  disguised  another  aching 
heart. 


206  THE  HOSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

I  was  seated  at  Mrs.  0 'Fallen's  left  hand;  a  Mr. 
Thruston,  whom  I  had  never  met,  but  who  was  evi 
dently  paying  earnest  court  to  the  charming  widow, 
was  on  her  right ;  and  mademoiselle  was  almost  at  the 
other  end  of  the  long  table,  between  Captain  Clarke 
and  young  John — about  as  far  from  me  as  possible, 
which,  since  it  was  to  be  our  last  meal  together,  I  felt 
to  be  a  distinct  grievance.  But  as  no  one  was  to  blame 
but  Aunt  Fanny,  and  she  had  set  me  beside  her  to  do 
me  honor,  I  could  not  well  find  fault. 

It  was  in  response  to  her  asking  me  to  show  some 
little  courtesy  to  Mr.  Thruston  after  dinner  (I  do  not 
now  recall  what)  that  I  told  her  I  must  set  out  on  my 
journey  as  soon  after  dinner  as  I  could  start.  Her 
short,  sharp  exclamation  of  surprise  and  displeasure 
caught  the  attention  of  all  the  table. 

" Brother  William,  do  you  hear  that?"  she  called  to 
my  captain.  "Our  kinsman  leaves  us  immediately. ' ' 

Aunt  Fanny  spoke  with  her  knife  poised  in  air.  A 
noble  great  bird,  a  wild  turkey,  was  on  the  platter  be 
fore  her,  oozing  a  rich  brown  gravy  from  every  pore. 
With  a  deftness  I  have  never  seen  equaled,  she  had 
been  separating  joints  and  carving  great  slices  of  the 
rich  dark  meat,  sending  savory  odors  steaming  up  into 
my  nostrils.  Now,  as  she  paused  in  her  work  to  make 
her  announcement,  there  arose  instantly  a  chorus  of 
remonstrances,  loudest  from  young  John  and  his 
younger  brother  Ben.  I  answered  them  modestly,  I 
hoped,  looking  at  everybody  except  mademoiselle, 
who  yet,  I  saw  distinctly,  turned  very  pale,  then  red, 
then  pale  again. 

I  addressed  myself  directly  to  Captain  Clarke: 


"AU  REVOIR"  207 

''My  uncle  has  forwarded  me  letters  from  home, 
requiring  my  presence  there  as  shortly  as  possible. 
The  letters  do  not  enlighten  me  as  to  the  reasons  for 
haste,  and  I  am  naturally  beset  with  some  misgivings, 
but  I  hope  all  is  well  with  my  family." 

My  captain  smiled  inscrutably. 

' '  Set  your  anxieties  at  rest,  my  lad.  I  also  found  a 
letter  awaiting  me  from  your  father.  It  explains  the 
reasons  for  haste,  but  wishes  them  kept  from  you  for 
the  present ;  but  they  are  of  the  most  agreeable  nature, 
and  all  is  well  at  home." 

I  was  greatly  relieved,  and  so  expressed  myself. 

"But  why  start  immediately?"  my  captain  con 
tinued.  "You  will  have  to  wait  for  a  boat,  and  the 
waiting  had  best  be  done  here. ' ' 

"I  have  found  one,  sir,"  I  answered.  "It  is  ex 
pected  up  the  river  this  afternoon,  and  goes  as  far  as 
Clarksville.  My  instructions  are  to  go  by  way  of 
"Washington,  and  call  on  Mr.  Jefferson,  so  nothing 
could  suit  me  better,  for  I  find  the  road  from  Clarks 
ville  to  Washington  is  comparatively  short,  and  the 
boat  is  a  small  keel-boat  and  likely  to  make  good 
time." 

"Well,  well!"  said  my  captain,  pleasantly,  "you 
must  have  been  hard  at  work  to  find  out  all  this  be 
tween  landing  and  dinner ;  but  I  know  the  reasons  for 
haste  are  imperative,  and  you  are  quite  right  to  set 
off  at  once. ' ' 

Then  suddenly  mademoiselle  spoke  up : 

"Mon  Capitaine,  if  monsieur  is  going  just  where  I 
must  go,  why  do  not  I  and  Clotilde  go  with  him  ? ' ' 

There  was  a  moment's  embarrassing  silence,  and 


208  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

then  I,  feeling  the  silence  unbearable  and  a  great  dis 
courtesy  to  mademoiselle,  answered  her. 

"Mademoiselle,  nothing  could  give  me  greater  plea 
sure  if  my  captain  and  Aunt  Fanny  think  it  could  be 
arranged.  But  I  fear  the  route  would  be  a  hard  one 
for  a  lady's  traveling,  since  the  boat  goes  only  to 
Clarksville,  and  from  there  to  Washington  there  is 
but  a  bridle-path,  and  a  very  rough  one." 

Then  everybody  broke  forth  at  once,  volubly : 

"Oh,  no,  no,  no!  We  cannot  think  of  letting  you 
go!" 

"Indeed,  miss,"  said  Aunt  Fanny,  in  her  pretty  im 
perious  way,  "you  may  think  yourself  fortunate  if 
you  get  away  from  here  any  time  in  the  next  two 
months.  We  do  not  get  hold  of  a  lovely  young  lady 
visitor  very  often,  and  when  we  do  we  mean  to  keep 
her  as  long  as  we  can.  And  here  is  my  son  John  over 
head  and  ears  in  love."  (Young  John  blushed  like  a 
peony.)  "Would  you  break  his  heart,  madam?  And 
Ben  is  no  better"  (for  Ben  had  been  slyly  laughing 
at  his  brother 's  discomfiture,  but  now  looked  very  silly 
indeed  as  he  took  his  share  of  his  mother's  tongue- 
lash).  "You  will  be  having  my  family  at  loggerheads 
if  you  stay,  no  doubt,  but  stay  you  must,  for  now  that 
we  have  once  seen  you,  there  is  no  living  without 
you." 

Mademoiselle  took  the  speech  adorably  (as  I  knew 
she  would,  though  I  doubt  whether  she  understood 
half  of  it),  smiling  and  blushing,  and  saying  in  her 
pretty  baby-English  that  they  were  very  good  to  her, 
and  she  would  not  break  "Meester  Jean's"  heart,  no,. 


"AU  BEV01E"  2C.1} 

nor  "Meester  Ben's";  she  would  stay  with  "dear 
madame." 

If  I  did  not  thereupon  fetch  a  long  and  deep  sigh 
from  the  very  bottom  of  my  boots,  it  was  not  because 
it  was  not  there  to  fetch,  as  I  thought  of  all  I  was 
missing  in  not  spending  a  happy  two  months  with 
mademoiselle  under  Aunt  Fanny's  delightful  roof. 

But  I  had  short  time  to  indulge  vain  regrets.  We 
were  in  the  midst  of  dessert,  a  huge  bowl  of  steaming 
punch  brewed  by  Aunt  Fanny  before  our  eyes,  and  a 
great  Christmas  cake,  which  she  said  she  had  saved 
for  our  home-coming,  when  a  small  negro  burst  open 
the  door  in  great  excitement. 

"Hi,  Miss  Fanny,  she  's  cominM" 

"Who  's  coming,  Scipio?  And  where  are  your 
manners  ?  Go  tell  your  mother  if  she  does  n  't  teach 
you  how  to  come  into  a  room  properly,  I  will  have  to 
take  you  in  hand. ' ' 

It  was  a  terrible  threat,  and  had  been  many  times 
employed— always  successfully,  for  "Miss  Fanny" 
never  did  "take  in  hand"  the  small  darkies,  and  so, 
having  no  notion  of  what  taking  in  hand  might  mean, 
all  the  terrors  of  mystery  were  added  to  their  fears. 
Young  Scipio  was  greatly  abashed,  and  pulled  his 
forelock  respectfully  as  he  answered  Mrs.  0 'Fallen's 
question. 

"It  's  de  boat,  missus;  she  's  comin'  roun'  de 
ben'." 

In  a  moment  all  was  confusion.  There  was  no  time 
to  be  lost.  Yorke  was  despatched  to  get  together  my 
belongings,  see  that  they  were  carried  to  the  landing, 

14 


210  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUTS 

and  himself  lead  Fatima  down  the  bank  and  on  to  the 
boat ;  for  to  no  other  would  I  trust  my  beauty.  The 
boat  by  this  time  had  nearly  reached  the  landing,  and 
there  was  a  hurry  of  good-bys,  Aunt  Fanny  shedding 
tears  of  vexation  that  my  visit  should  be  so  short,  and 
calling  me  her  * '  dear  boy, ' '  and  kissing  me  and  scold 
ing  me  in  one  breath. 

She  and  mademoiselle  walked  as  far  as  the  top  of 
the  bluff  with  me  (I  would  not  let  them  come  farther, 
for  the  bank  was  steep  and  muddy),  and  then  I  said 
my  good-by  to  mademoiselle.  I  raised  her  hand  to  my 
lips  as  I  said  it,  and  she  looked  straight  into  my  eyes 
with  eyes  that  shone  with  something  brighter  than 
smiles  as  she  answered : 

1  i  Au  revoir,  monsieur ! ' ' 

The  captain  of  the  keel-boat  was  shouting  to  us  to 
make  haste,  and  there  was  no  time  for  another  word ; 
and  I  was  glad  to  have  it  so,  for  another  word  might 
have  made  me  indeed  the  boy  Aunt  Fanny  was  always 
calling  me. 

The  two  boys,  Mr.  Thruston,  and  my  captain  went 
down  to  the  boat  with  me  (which  proved  to  be  a  more 
comfortable  one  than  I  had  dared  to  hope  for),  and 
Fatima  having  been  coaxed  aboard  and  quarters 
found  for  her  in  a  warm  shed,  and  my  captain  pressing 
my  hand  with  an  affectionate  "Good-by,  dear  lad," 
that  was  once  more  near  to  my  undoing,  we  were  un 
tied,  and  the  men  at  the  poles  pushed  hard  and  walked 
rapidly  back  to  the  stern,  and  the  men  at  the  cordelle 
pulled  all  together,  with  a  long-drawn  "Heave,  ho, 
heave ! ' '  and  we  were  off. 


"AU  REVOIR"  211 

I  stood  in  the  stern  watching  the  two  figures  on  the 
bluff  until  one  of  them  went  away  and  there  was  only 
one,  slender  and  of  but  little  stature,  with  soft  dark 
curls,  and  eyes  whose  tender  glow  I  could  feel  long 
after  the  figure  was  but  one  indistinct  blur,  with  a 
white  hand  waving  farewell. 

Then  came  another  bend  in  the  river  and  shut  her 
from  my  sight.  And  there  was  naught  left  to  me  of 
Mademoiselle  Pelagie  but  a  memory  of  tears  and 
smiles;  of  hard  words  and  gentle  ones;  of  cold  looks 
and  kind  ones; 'of  alternate  hopes  and  fears  on  my 
side ;  of  scorning  and— yes,  I  believed  it  with  all  my 
heart — of  scorning  and  loving  on  hers. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

A  VIRGINIA  FARMER 

"  Statesman,  yet  friend  to  truth  !  of  soul  sincere, 
In  action  faithful,  and  in  honour  clear. " 

WHAT,  Fatima !  You  refuse  ? ' ' 
I  dismounted  and  led  her  carefully  down  the 
steep  bank  and  on  to  the  ferry-boat.  She  followed  me 
very  willingly,  but  I  stood  with  my  arm  over  her  glossy 
neck,  for  I  saw  she  eyed  the  water  distrustfully,  and 
while  I  had  no  fear  of  her  being  disobedient  to  my 
word  of  command,  I  knew  it  would  comfort  her  to  feel 
my  arm  about  her  neck.  She  neighed  her  appreciation, 
and  gently  rubbed  her  nostrils  against  my  side,  ever  a 
token  of  affection  with  her.  When  the  bcru  Vgan  to 
move,  the  two  stalwart  negroes  pulling  at  their  great 
oars  and  chanting  dismally  in  time  to  their  pulling, 
Fatima  again  showed  signs  of  excitement,  but  I  easily 
quieted  her,  and  then  I  had  leisure  to  use  my  eyes. 

This  crossing  the  Potomac  to  Washington  reminded 
me  vividly  of  crossing  the  Mississippi  to  St.  Louis 
more  than  three  months  before.  Nor  did  the  capital 
look  more  impressive  at  this  distance  than  the  vil 
lage  of  St.  Louis.  Both  were  embowered  in  trees,  and 
but  for  the  two  imposing  white  buildings,— the  Presi- 

212 


A  VIRGINIA  FARMER  213 

dent's  Palace  and  the  Capitol, — Washington  was  much 
the  less  prepossessing  village  of  the  two,  and  I  thought 
how  much  more  worthy  was  our  own  city  of  Philadel 
phia  to  be  the  capital  of  the  nation. 

Indeed,  when  I  had  led  Fatima  off  the  ferry,  she 
sank  over  her  fetlocks  in  mud,  and  I  had  to  lead  her 
some  distance  before  I  found  ground  firm  enough  to 
warrant  my  mounting  her,  lest  my  weight  should  make 
the  poor  creature  flounder  hopelessly  in  the  mire. 

I  bore  in  my  pocket  a  letter  from  Captain  Clarke 
introducing  me  to  Mr.  Meriwether  Lewis,  which  he 
had  written  at  Mulberry  Hill,  after  the  boat  that  was 
to  bear  me  away  was  in  sight,  and  also  an  address 
lie  had  given  me  of  a  respectable  innkeeper  where  I 
might  find  lodging.  The  inn  was  my  first  quest,  and 
that  once  found  and  a  suitable  toilet  made,  I  was 
eager  to  present  my  letter  of  introduction,  and,  if 
chance  favored  me,  meet  the  President  also. 

It  was  still  early,  and  the  road  I  found  myself 
upon  (for  it  could  not  be  called  a  street,  since  there 
were  no  pavements  and  only  at  long  intervals  a  house) 
was  filled  with  a  well-dressed  throng  all  wending  their 
way  in  one  direction.  It  seemed  to  me  too  early  an 
hour  for  gentlemen  to  be  seeking  a  place  of  amuse 
ment,  and  too  late  and  the  throng  too  generally  well 
dressed  to  be  on  their  way  to  business.  Some  were  in 
coaches,  with  coachmen  in  lively  on  the  box  and  foot 
men  standing  up  behind,  and  some  were  on  horseback 
and  some  on  foot,  but  all,  or  nearly  all,  were  wearing 
silk  stockings  and  fine  ruffled  shirts  and  carefully  pow 
dered  queues  and  shining  shoe-buckles. 


214  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

A  little  stretch  of  brick  sidewalk  gave  an  air  of  dis 
tinction  to  a  solidly  built  two-story  house  with  slop 
ing  roof  and  dormer-windows,  and  in  front  of  the 
house,  on  a  stool  planted  on  the  curb,  sat  an  old  negro, 
bandy-legged,  with  snowy  wool,  industriously  polish 
ing  a  row  of  shoes  neatly  arranged  in  front  of  him, 
and  crooning  happily  a  plantation  melody  as  he 
worked.  I  drew  Fatima  to  the  curb. 

"Good  morning,  uncle,"  I  said  as  the  negro  slowly 
lifted  his  head,  bowed  over  his  brush.  "Can  you  tell 
me  who  all  these  people  are  and  where  they  are  go 
ing?" 

"Mohnen,  marsa,"  the  negro  returned  politely,  and 
then  looked  at  me  with  round-eyed  astonishment. 
"Yo'  dunno  whar  they  's  gwine?  Why,  sah,  dey  's 
de  Senatahs  and  Represenatahs,  sah,  and  dey  gwine  to 
de  Cap 'till,  sah." 

Of  course !  It  was  very  stupid  of  me  not  to  have 
thought  of  it.  The  negro  evidently  thought  so,  too, 
but  a  sudden  excuse  suggested  itself  to  him. 

"Mought  yo'  be  a  stranger  in  Washington,  sah?" 
with  a  glance  of  such  undisguised  pity  for  any  bar 
barian  who  did  not  know  the  capital  that  I  felt  myself 
coloring,  and  to  recover  my  self-respect  assured  him 
that  I  had  set  foot  in  this  "domtiferous"  mud-hole 
for  the  first  time  just  fifteen  minutes  before. 

He  was  greatly  impressed  with  my  emphatic  word, 
and  addressed  me  with  much-increased  respect. 

"Den,  sah,  if  I  might  be  so  libertious,  p'r'aps  yo' 
like  me  to  p'int  out  de  'stinguished  gen'lemen." 

Nothing  could  have  pleased  me  better,  and  I  drew 


A  VIRGINIA  FARMER  215 

Fatima  still  closer  to  the  curb  while  Bandy  Jim— for 
that,  he  said,  was  his  name— proceeded  to  point  out 
the  celebrities. 

There  was  passing  at  that  moment  a  very  elegant 
coach,  with  mounted  postilions  in  pink  plush  and  gold 
lace,  and  an  exceedingly  handsome  man  with  an  aristo 
cratic  face  leaning  back  among  the  cushions,  his  eyes 
half  closed,  as  if  mentally  conning  a  speech  for  deliv 
ery  in  Congress.  Bandy  Jim  did  not  wait  for  the  eager 
question  on  the  tip  of  my  tongue. 

"Dat,  sah,  is  de  welfiest  and  most  'stocratic  gen'le- 
man  in  Washington.  Dat  am  Mistah  Gubernoor  Mor 
ris  of  de  gre't  city  of  New  York.  I  'low  he  studying 
dis  minnit  on  a  speech  'bout  de  Mississippi  Riber  and 
dem  Spanish  men." 

I  looked  at  him  again,  more  eagerly  than  before.  I 
knew  Gouverneur  Morris  well  by  reputation,  though 
I  had  never  seen  him,  as  one  of  the  most  polished  and 
scholarly  men  of  the  country,  and  the  devoted  friend 
of  Hamilton,  whom  I  idolized  as  all  that  was  brilliant, 
great,  and  noble.  But  my  eagerness  was  largely  due 
to  Bandy  Jim's  suggestion  that  they  were  discussing 
the  Mississippi  question  in  Congress,  and  as  I  looked 
more  keenly  I  hoped  he  was  on  the  right  side,  for 
I  thought  that  broad  white  brow  could  think  great 
thoughts  and  those  clear-cut  lips  could  utter  them 
with  force. 

"Why  do  you  think  it  will  be  on  the  Mississippi  this 
morning,  uncle?"  I  inquired,  amused  that  the  old 
darky  should  seem  to  know  the  doings  in  Congress. 
*  *  Do  you  go  up  to  the  Capitol  to  listen  to  the  debates  ? '  * 


216  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

''Sometimes,  sah,  but  mos'ly  I  reads  dem  in  de 
'Post/  sah!"  And  the  proud  air  with  which  he  let 
me  know  of  his  unusual  accomplishment  beggars  de 
scription. 

"And  so  you  can  read,  Uncle?  And  who  taught 
you?" 

"Ole  Miss,  sah.  I  's  a  free  nigger,  sah.  Ole  Miss 
gib  me  my  papers  so  I  mought  stay  wid  my  fambly 
when  she  follow  de  gin'ral  and  his  father  to  Mulberry 
HillinKaintuck'." 

I  confess  Bandy  Jim  seemed  like  an  old  friend  at 
once  when  I  found  he  had  belonged  to  the  Clarkes,  and 
in  my  delight  at  seeing  "one  of  the  family"  in  a 
strange  land,  I  slipped  from  Fatirna's  back  and 
grasped  him  by  the  hand. 

When  he  found  I  was  just  from  Kentucky  and  Mul 
berry  Hill,  he  was  more  excited  than  I,  and  especially 
was  he  eager  for  news  of  "Marse  William." 

"He  mah  baby,  sah!"  he  repeated  over  and  over, 
his  old  eyes  shining  with  visions  of  other  days. 

"An7  Yorke,  sah,— you  know  Yorke?— he  mah 
son ! ' '  with  great  dignity  and  much  evident  pride  in  a 
son  of  such  distinction. 

I  had  many  things  to  tell  him  of  Yorke 's  prowess 
and  address  that  pleased  the  old  fellow  greatly.  I 
might  also  have  recounted  the  many  times  when  I 
had  had  all  the  will  in  the  world  to  horsewhip  the 
rascal,  but  I  did  not  distress  his  old  father  with  any 
of  his  shortcomings. 

The  morning  was  fast  slipping  away  when  I  be 
thought  me  it  was  time  to  be  looking  up  my  lodging 


A  VIRGINIA  FARMER  217 

and  making  myself  ready  for  my  call  at  the  Presi 
dent's  Palace.  I  flung  Bandy  Jim  a  piece  of  gold 
and  told  him  I  would  see  him  again.  And  then  as  I 
was  in  the  act  of  mounting  Fatima  it  occurred  to  me 
he  could  no  doubt  direct  me. 

''Can  you  tell  me  how  to  find  the  Mansion  House, 
Uncle?" 

' '  Right  here,  sah, ' '  grinning  with  delight ;  and  sure 
enough,  what  had  seemed  to  me  the  home  of  some 
respectable  citizen  proved  to  be  mine  inn.  And  a 
very  good  one  indeed ;  for  when  Bandy  Jim  had  called 
a  boy  to  lead  Fatima  around  the  house  to  the  stables 
in  the  rear,  and  another  to  take  me  in  to  the  landlord, 
I  found  myself  in  as  clean  and  comfortable  a  hostelry 
as  one  could  hope  to  find.  My  chamber  was  a  large 
square  one,  on  the  second  landing,  and  from  its 
windows  I  could  catch  glimpses  through  the  bare 
trees  of  the  white  building  on  the  hill  that  I  knew  was 
the  Capitol. 

And  when  a  boy  had  brought  my  saddle-bags, 
Bandy  Jim  himself  hobbled  in  to  help  me  dress.  He 
had  been  body-servant  to  both  General  Clarke  and 
his  father,  and,  old  as  he  was,  bent  nearly  double  and 
dim  of  sight,  his  fingers  were  skilled  for  lacers  and 
laces,  for  buckles  and  ribbons. 

I  thought  I  looked  quite  as  a  gentleman  should  for  a 
morning  call  at  the  "White  House,"  for  that,  I  under 
stand,  is  what  Mr.  Jefferson  prefers  to  have  the 
President's  Palace  called.  Indeed,  I  have  heard  he 
very  vehemently  objects  to  having  it  called  a  palace  at 
all.  I  was  wearing  a  plain  cloth  habit  o'f  dark  green 


218  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

with  no  lace  at  wrist  or  knee  and  only  a  small  lace  tie 
at  the  neck.  My  shoe-buckles  were  of  the  plainest 
silver,  but  Bandy  Jim  had  polished  them  till  they 
shone  like  new.  I  had  some  thoughts  of  deferring 
my  visit  until  later  in  the  day,  when  I  might  with  a 
good  grace  have  worn  satin  and  velvet  and  fine  lace 
ruffles,  for  I  am  afraid  I  was  something  of  a  beau  in 
those  days  in  my  liking  for  dress.  But  bethinking  me 
that  the  plainness  of  my  costume  would  only  be  an  ad 
ditional  recommendation  in  the  eyes  of  the  President, 
should  I  have  the  good  fortune  to  meet  him,  I  set  off 
on  Fatima's  back,  following  the  straight  road,  as 
Bandy  Jim  had  directed. 

A  more  forlorn  village  it  has  rarely  been  my  lot  to 
see :  stretches  of  mud  road  with  neither  houses  nor 
fields  to  outline  it,  and  then  for  a  block  or  more  bare 
and  ugly  houses,  hideous  in  their  newness,  not  having 
even  the  grace  of  age  to  soften  their  ill  proportions. 
I  was  glad  mademoiselle  was  not  there  to  gaze  upon 
the  capital  of  America  with  eyes  that  knew  so  well  how 
to  be  scornful,  and  that  would  so  soon  find  her  own 
gay  French  capital  so  beautiful. 

I  was  in  the  very  act  of  saying  to  myself  for  the 
twentieth  time,  "Idiots  and  dolts,  not  to  have  se 
lected  beautiful  Philadelphia  for  a  nation's  capital!" 
when  there  rode  up  beside  me  a  farmer  in  plain,  al 
most  rough,  clothes,  but  riding  a  magnificent  horse. 
He  was  about  to  pass  me  (for  I  was  riding  slowly, 
out  of  respect  to  the  mud,  which  might  easily  have  be 
spattered  me  so  that  I  would  be  in  no  condition  for  a 
call),  but  I  hailed  him: 


A  VIRGINIA  FARMER  219 

"Are  you  going  my  way,  my  friend?" 

"If  you  are  going  mine." 

"I  am  going  straight  ahead  to  the  President's  Pal 
ace." 

"And  I  to  the  White  House,  sir." 

"Then  our  ways  lie  together.  Are  you  acquainted 
in  Washington?" 

' '  Somewhat,  sir. ' ' 

I  began  to  think  this  rather  a  surly  farmer,  he 
was  so  chary  of  words,  so  I  looked  at  him  more  nar 
rowly.  But  I  saw  nothing  surly  in  his  face.  Indeed, 
at  a  second  glance,  I  decided  it  was  as  fine  a  face,  its 
features  as  clearly  chiseled,  as  one  often  sees,  and 
the  eyes,  beneath  the  broad  white  brow,  were  full, 
open,  and  benignant. 

"He  is  no  ordinary  farmer,"  I  said  to  myself,  "but 
most  like  a  wealthy  Virginia  planter  of  education  and 
social  standing,  but  careless  in  matters  of  dress." 
Therefore  I  addressed  him  with  a  shade  more  of  re 
spect  than  I  had  hitherto  used : 

"I  am  a  stranger  in  Washington,  sir,"  I  said,  "and 
if  you  are  better  acquainted  here,  I  thought  perhaps 
you  would  be  so  good  as  to  tell  me  something  of  the 
city." 

He  unbent  immediately,  and  not  only  pointed  out, 
every  object  of  interest  on  the  road,  but  in  a  very 
delicate  and  gentlemanly  manner  proceeded  also  to 
pump  me  as  to  my  name  and  errand  in  Washington. 
I  was  not  more  amused  at  his  curiosity  than  at  the 
skilful  method  he  employed  in  trying  to  satisfy  it,  but, 
as  I  flattered  myself,  I  gave  him  but  little  satisfaction. 


220  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

In  reply  to  some  question  of  mine  about  the  debate 
in  Congress  on  the  Mississippi  question,  he  gave  me 
such  a  masterly  exposition  of  the  whole  subject,  so 
clearly  and  concisely  put  into  a  nutshell,  I  began  to 
think  my  eccentric  planter  was  a  political  genius,  pos 
sibly  a  member  of  Congress,  though  if  so  I  thought 
his  horse  was  headed  the  wrong  way. 

But  evidently  I  had  lighted  unwittingly  upon  a  rich 
mine  of  information.  It  was  never  my  way  to  neglect 
my  opportunities,  and  I  began  at  once  to  ply  him 
with  questions  about  men  and  things  in  Washington. 
Last  of  all,  I  asked  him  about  Mr.  Jefferson. 

Now  my  family  was  not  of  Mr.  Jefferson 's  party : 
we  were  ardent  admirers  and  strong  partizans  of  Mr. 
Hamilton.  Not  that  we  had  any  fault  to  find  with 
Mr.  Jefferson,  except  for  his  quarrel  with  Hamilton. 
But  bethinking  me  that  it  was  quite  possible  my 
planter  might  be  a  "Democrat,"  as  Mr.  Jefferson  calls 
his  party,  I  spoke  guardedly,  I  thought. 

"Can  you  tell  me  something  of  the  President,  sir? 
Do  you  admire  him  1  And  is  it  true  he  is  such  a  sloven 
in  dress  as  they  say  he  is?" 

I  could  not  tell  from  his  face  whether  he  were 
Democrat  or  Whig,  for  it  changed  not  a  whit.  He 
answered  readily: 

"I  know  Mr.  Jefferson  quite  well.  I  can  hardly  say 
whether  I  admire  him  or  not,  but  I  like  him.  In  fact, 
he  is  quite  a  friend  of  mine.  As  to  his  being  a  sloven 
in  dress,  is  that  what  they  say  about  him  ?  He  dresses 
as  well  as  I  do :  would  you  call  that  being  a  sloven  ?  ' ' 

"Not  at  all,  sir,  not  at  all!"  I  answered  quickly; 


A  VIRGINIA  FARMER  221 

but  to  myself  I  said,  "If  he  dresses  no  better,  God  help 
us ! ' '  I  added  aloud : 

"I  hope,  sir,  what  I  have  said  about  the  President 
has  not  offended  you,  since  he  is  a  friend  of  yours.  I 
have  never  seen  him,  and  was  only  repeating  the  gen 
eral  report." 

The  stream  of  people  that  had  been  setting  eastward 
earlier  in  the  morning  had  ceased  entirely.  We  had 
ridden  on  some  distance  without  meeting  any  one,  but 
at  this  moment  we  met  two  gentlemen  on  horseback, 
and  both  took  off  their  hats  and  kept  them  off  until 
we  had  passed.  I  thought  it  probable  that  from  my 
fine  clothes  (which,  though  plain,  were  of  undeniable 
elegance)  they  took  me  for  a  stranger  of  distinction, 
and  I  bowed  most  graciously  in  return.  My  farmer 
friend  but  touched  his  hat  with  his  riding-whip,  and 
then  pointed  off  through  the  wroods  to  where  we 
could  see  the  chimneys  of  a  large  house,  on  the  banks 
of  the  river. 

"That,"  he  said,  "is  Mr.  Law's  mansion.  You  may 
have  heard  of  him?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  I  answered;  "he  married  Miss  Custis, 
and  I  used  to  know  her  quite  well,  when  we  were  both 
children." 

We  mounted  a  little  elevation  in  the  road,  not  enough 
to  be  called  a  hill,  but  enough  to  give  a  more  extended 
view  over  the  wide  acres  of  brick-kilns  and  huts  of 
laborers  and  dismal  waste  land  unfenced  and  uncul 
tivated.  To  the  east,  in  the  direction  of  the  Capitol, 
he  pointed  out  the  towers  of  Doddington  Manor,  the 
house  of  Daniel  Carroll.  We  had  passed  so  many 


222  THE   ROSE  OF   OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

houses  that  seemed  to  me  but  little  more  than  hovels 
or  barracks  that  it  was  a  relief  to  me  to  see  from 
Mr.  Law's  and  Mr.  Carroll's  places  that  there  were 
some  gentlemen's  residences  in  the  capital.  When  I 
said  something  of  the  kind  to  my  guide,  he  replied, 
with  some  asperity,  that  there  were  many  gentlemen's 
residences  at  Alexandria  and  Arlington  and  George 
town,  only  a  short  gallop  away,  and  that  it  would  not 
be  many  years  until  Washington  itself  could  claim  as 
many  as  New  York  or  Philadelphia. 

I  saw  he  was  one  of  those  violent  partizans  of  the 
"ten-mile  square"  (probably  because  his  farm  lay 
somewhere  near),  so  discreetly  turned  the  discourse, 
since  I  did  not  want  to  bring  up  the  vexed  question  of 
the  superior  merits  of  New  York,  Philadelphia,  and 
the  ten-mile  square  as  a  seat  for  the  capital. 

By  this  time  the  President 's  Palace  was  in  full  view, 
and  a  beautiful  building  it  was,  looking  very  large 
and  very  white,  and,  it  must  be  confessed,  very  bare, 
since  there  were  no  gardens  surrounding  it,  nothing 
but  mud  in  front  and  marsh  behind,  between  it  and 
the  Potomac. 

Fatima  picked  her  way  daintily  through  the  mud, 
often  half  stopping  for  better  footing  (as  if  she  knew 
she  must  not  bespatter  me  when  I  was  going  to  call 
at  the  President's  house),  and  by  that  means  the 
farmer's  powerful  horse  (who  seemed  not  to  mind  the 
mud,  knowing  there  was  no  finery  to  be  hurt  by  it) 
got  well  ahead.  I  was  myself  so  much  engaged  with 
the  badness  of  the  road  that  I  did  not,  for  a  few  min 
utes,  look  up.  When  I  did,  I  observed  that  two  order- 


'  Welcome  to  the  White  House  ! ' " 


A  VIRGINIA  FARMER  223 

lies  were  holding  the  farmer's  horse,  from  which  he 
had  just  dismounted,  while  the  farmer  himself  stood 
on  the  steps  awaiting  my  approach.  One  orderly  led 
his  horse  away  as  I  rode  up,  but  the  exclamation  of 
disgust  for  the  mud  that  rose  to  my  lips  never  passed 
them.  As  I  glanced  up  at  this  "farmer"  in  cordu 
roy  small-clothes,  red  plush  waistcoat,  rough  riding- 
boots  splashed  with  mud,  he  had  suddenly  grown  tall 
and  majestic. 

"Orderly,  take  this  gentleman's  horse  to  the  sta 
ble!"  he  said,  with  an  air  of  command,  and  then 
turned  to  me  with  stately  dignity. 

"Welcome  to  the  White  House,  my  young  Phila 
delphia  friend,"  he  said,  and  smiled. 

For  my  confusion  knew  no  bounds.  I  was  never 
quick  where  a  puzzle  or  trick  was  concerned,  but  now 
it  slowly  dawned  upon  me  that  my  farmer  friend 
was  the  President  of  the  United  States!  and  I  had 
been  criticizing  him  to  his  face,  and  talking  flippantly 
to  him,  and  even  superciliously.  My  consternation 
grew;  I  knew  not  what  was  the  proper  thing  to  do, 
"but  I  stammered  out  the  most  abject  apology  I  could 
think  of. 

Mr.  Jefferson  only  laughed  at  my  confusion. 

"Come,  come,  sir,"  he  said  genially,  "there  is  no 
great  harm  done.  Don't  you  suppose  I  know  what 
people  say  of  me?  You  were  only  repeating  the 
'  general  report, '  you  know. ' '  And  then  he  added  seri 
ously,  as  he  saw  my  confusion  was  but  increased  by  his 
raillery : 

"Where  no  offense  is  intended,  sir,  none  is  taken, 


224  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

I  beg  you  will  enter  the  White  House,  and  I  will  send 
rny  secretary  to  you,  Mr.  Meriwether  Lewis." 

As  he  spoke  he  led  the  way  into  the  house  and  into  a 
very  large  and  beautiful  room,  with  a  full-length  por 
trait  of  General  Washington  on  the  walls. 

"I  shall  hope  to  see  you  later,"  he  said  pleasantly 
as  he  left  me ;  "  if  I  mistake  not,  I  have  some  communi 
cations  of  interest  for  you."  Then  he  turned  and 
went  up  the  grand  staircase  and  left  me  alone  to  my 
miserable  pastime  of  recalling  every  word  and  every 
incident  of  that  wretched  ride  to  the  White  House, 
and  from  not  one  of  them  could  I  extract  an  atom  of 
comfort  to  soothe  my  wounded  self-esteem. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

A  GREAT  DEBATE 

They  "of  the  western  dome,  whose  weighty  sense 
Flows  in  fit  words  and  heavenly  eloquence." 

I  HAD  been  so  abashed  by  my  wretched  mistake 
that  I  had  not  so  much  as  told  the  President  who  I 
was  (though,  truth  to  tell,  he  had  not  asked  me,  and  it 
would  have  been  only  another  impertinence  on  my 
part  to  have  volunteered  the  information) .  Yet  as  I 
sat  waiting  for  young  Mr.  Lewis,  and  reviewing  in  my 
mind  the  miserable  events  through  which  I  had  just 
passed,  it  suddenly  occurred  to  me  as  very  remarkable 
that  Mr.  Jefferson  should  have  known  I  was  from 
Philadelphia,  when  I  thought  I  had  been  so  particu 
larly  skilful  in  betraying  no  fact  concerning  myself. 
Moreover,  he  had  not  only  guessed  I  was  from  Phila 
delphia;  he  must  have  guessed  my  identity  also,  for 
he  had  "communications  of  interest"  for  me. 

My  curiosity  was  now  so  thoroughly  aroused,  both 
as  to  how  the  President  knew  me  and  what  his  commu 
nications  might  be,  that  it  began  to  efface  the  keenness 
of  my  mortification.  In  the  midst  of  my  wondering 
surmises,  Mr.  Lewis  appeared  and  greeted  me  most 
affably;  and  when  I  had  presented  Captain  Clarke's 
15  225 


226  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

letter  of  introduction,  lie  was,  if  possible,  more  affable 
still.  He  was  an  older-looking  man  than  I  had  ex 
pected  to  see,  and  with  so  much  of  seriousness  in  his 
countenance,  and  yet  of  such  frankness  and  earnest 
ness  in  his  manner,  that  it  drew  my  interest  and  liking 
at  once. 

He  was  the  bearer  of  a  very  polite  message  from  the 
President,  inviting  me  to  dinner  at  the  White  House 
at  four  o'clock  that  afternoon;  and  then  he  proposed 
that  we  should  set  out  at  once  for  the  Capitol,  where, 
as  he  said,  a  debate  of  special  interest  was  on  the  cal 
endar. 

I  was  much  touched  at  the  generosity  of  Mr.  Jeffer 
son  in  returning  my  discourtesy  to  himself  by  so  cour 
teously  placing  his  secretary  at  my  disposal  for  my 
entertainment,  and  nothing  could  have  pleased  me 
better  than  Mr.  Lewis's  proposal.  It  had  been  my  in 
tention  to  visit  the  Capitol  as  soon  as  this  visit  of  cere 
mony  should  be  performed,  but  to  visit  it  with  a  guide 
so  much  at  home  as  the  President 's  secretary  was  good 
luck  indeed. 

I  thought  it  still  better  luck  when  I  found  that,  by 
Mr.  Jefferson's  special  invitation,  we  were  to  sit  in  a 
small  gallery  set  aside  for  the  President  and  his 
friends,  and  to  which  a  guard  in  uniform  admitted  us 
with  a  key.  I  was  much  impressed  by  the  exterior  of 
the  Capitol  (though  in  such  an  unfinished  state),  but 
when  I  found  myself  seated  in  the  seclusion  of  the 
President's  own  private  gallery,  looking  down  upon 
the  horseshoe  of  grave  and  distinguished  senators,  I 
could  have  wished  that  one  of  the  ladies  (of  whom 


A  GREAT   DEBATE  22? 

there  were  a  number  in  the  gallery  opposite,  and  who 
cast  many  inquisitive  glances  at  the  two  young  men  in 
the  President's  box)  might  have  been  Mademoiselle 
Pelagie,  for  I  felt  sure  she  would  never  again  think  of 
me  as  a  boy,  could  she  but  see  me  in  my  present  digni 
fied  surroundings. 

But  it  was  only  for  a  moment  that  my  attention  was 
distracted  by  the  ladies  and  by  thoughts  of  mademoi 
selle.  A  gentleman  was  speaking  (Mr.  Lewis  told  me 
it  was  Mr.  Ross  of  Pennsylvania)  in  a  most  impas 
sioned  manner,  and  the  magic  word  " Mississippi" 
caught  my  ear  and  charmed  my  attention.  Mr.  Ross 
was  saying : 

"To  the  free  navigation  of  the  Mississippi  we  have 
undoubted  right,  from  nature  and  also  from  the  posi 
tion  of  our  Western  country.  This  right  and  the  right 
of  deposit  in  the  Island  of  New  Orleans  were  sol 
emnly  acknowledged  and  fixed  by  treaty  in  1795. 
That  treaty  has  been  in  actual  operation  and  execu 
tion  for  many  years,  and  now,  without  any  pre 
tense  of  abuse  or  violation  on  our  part,  the  offi 
cers  of  the  Spanish  government  deny  that  right,  re 
fuse  the  place  of  deposit,  and  add  the  most  offensive 
of  all  insults  by  forbidding  us  from  landing  on  any 
part  of  their  territory  and  shutting  us  out  as  a  com 
mon  nuisance.  I  declare  it,  therefore,  to  be  my  firm 
and  mature  opinion  that  so  important  a  right  will 
never  be  secure  while  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  is 
exclusively  in  the  hands  of  the  Spanish.  From  the 
very  position  of  our  country,  from  its  geographical 
shape,  from  motives  of  complete  independence,  the 


228  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

command  of  the  navigation  of  the  river  ought  to  be 
in  our  hands. 

"We  are  now  wantonly  provoked  to  take  it.  Hos 
tility  in  its  most  offensive  shape  has  been  offered  us, 
and  hostility  fatal  to  the  happiness  of  the  Western 
World.  Why  not  seize,  then,  what  is  so  essential  to 
us  as  a  nation?  Why  not  expel  the  wrong-doers? 
Paper  treaties  have  proved  too  feeble.  Plant  your 
selves  on  the  river;  fortify  the  banks;  invite  those  who 
have  an  interest  at  stake  to  defend  it.  Do  justice  to 
yourselves  when  your  adversaries  deny  it,  and  leave 
the  event  to  Him  who  controls  the  fate  of  nations !' 

Ah,  how  his  words  burnt  my  brain !  I  was  for  leav 
ing  Mr.  Lewis  in  the  President's  gallery,  running 
down  to  the  great  entrance  where  I  had  left  Fatima 
in  charge  of  a  negro  boy,  mounting  her,  and  riding 
straight  back  to  Kentucky.  Once  there,  I  was  sure  it 
would  be  an  easy  matter  to  raise  a  company  of  eager 
patriots  and  march  at  their  head  down  the  Great  River 
to  the  hostile  city.  But  Mr.  Ross  had  not  finished,  and 
I  could  not  lose  a  word  of  his  impassioned  speech : 

"Why  submit  to  a  tardy  and  uncertain  negotiation 
—a  negotiation  with  those  who  have  wronged  you? 
When  in  possession  you  will  negotiate  with  more  ad 
vantage.  You  will  then  be  in  the  position  to  keep 
others  out.  The  present  possessors  have  no  pretense 
to  complain,  for  they  have  no  right  to  the  country,  by 
their  own  confession. 

"The  Western  people  will  discover  that  you  are 
making  every  effort  they  could  desire  for  their  protec 
tion.  They  will  ardently  support  you  in  the  contest, 


A  GREAT  DEBATE  229 

if  a  contest  becomes  necessary.  Their  all  will  be  at 
stake,  and  neither  their  zeal  nor  their  courage  need  be 
doubted. 

"But  after  negotiations  shall  have  failed;  after  a 
powerful,  ambitious  ration  shall  have  taken  possession 
of  the  key  of  their  Western  country  and  fortified  it; 
after  the  garrisons  are  filled  by  the  veterans  who  have 
conquered  the  East:  will  you  have  it  in  your  power 
to  waken  the  generous  spirit  of  the  West  and  dis 
possess  them?  No,  no;  their  confidence  in  you  as 
their  rulers  will  be  gone;  they  will  be  disheartened, 
divided,  and  will  place  no  further  dependence  upon 
you." 

At  this  moment  two  officers  in  uniform  entered  the 
Senate,  preceding  a  gentleman  who  carried  on  a  cush 
ion  a  document.  Immediately  the  President  of  the 
Senate,  Mr.  Burr  (a  man  whom  I  had  been  reared  to 
dislike  and  distrust  above  all  men,  and  whose  enmity 
for  Mr.  Hamilton  was  sufficient  cause  to  make  me  his 
foe,  yet  whose  attractive  personality,  seeing  him  for 
the  first  time,  I  could  not  deny),  called  the  house  to 
order,  and  requested  Mr.  Ross  to  defer  the  completion 
of  his  speech  until  a  message  from  the  House  of  Rep 
resentatives  should  have  been  read. 

I  was  all  curiosity,  for  it  seemed  to  me  an  imposing 
ceremony  and  one  that  must  be  of  great  moment.  But 
I  was  doomed  to  disappointment.  The  gentleman 
bearing  the  document  said  something  in  a  low  tone  to 
the  clerk,  who  repeated  it  to  Mr.  Burr.  Whereupon 
Mr.  Burr  rose  in  his  seat. 

"Gentlemen  of  the  Senate, "  he  said,  "the  House  of 


230  THE   ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Representatives  sends  you  a  confidential  message. 
Sergeant-at-arms,  clear  the  house!" 

Mr.  Lewis  rose  at  once,  and  signaled  to  me  to  follow, 
which  I  did,  very  unwillingly.  Outside  in  the  corri 
dors  he  said : 

"I  think  this  will  be  but  a  brief  secret  conference 
—most  like  we  can  return  in  a  few  minutes;  and  I 
will  employ  the  interim  in  showing  you  the  building. ' ' 

From  his  manner  I  thought  he  must  know  the  sub 
ject  of  the  secret  conference,  as,  indeed,  being  the 
President's  private  secretary,  he  would  have  every 
means  of  knowing.  But  he  gave  me  no  hint  of  it,  and 
it  was  not  until  long  afterward  that  I  learned  that  in 
the  half-hour  we  were  shut  out  the  Senate  had  con 
firmed  the  House  bill  to  place  two  million  dollars  at 
the  President's  disposal  to  commence  with  more  effect 
a  negotiation  with  France  and  Spain  for  the  purchase 
of  the  Isle  of  New  Orleans  and  the  East  and  West 
Floridas. 

When  the  doors  were  opened  again,  and  we  were 
back  in  our  seats  in  the  President's  gallery,  we  found 
Mr.  Ross  already  on  his  feet,  continuing  his  inter 
rupted  speech,  and  evidently  the  sentences  I  first 
heard  were  in  reference  to  the  bill  just  passed. 

"I  know,"  he  said,  "that  some  gentlemen  think 
there  is  a  mode  of  accomplishing  our  object,  of  which, 
by  a  most  extraordinary  procedure,  I  am  forbidden  to 
speak  on  this  occasion.  I  will  not,  therefore,  touch  it. 
But  I  will  ask  honorable  gentlemen,  especially  those 
from  the  Western  country,  what  they  will  say,  on 
their  return  home,  to  a  people  pressed  by  the  heavy 
hand  of  this  calamity,  when  they  inquire :  What  has 


A  GREAT   DEBATE  231 

been  done  ?  What  are  our  hopes  ?  How  long  will  this 
obstruction  continue?  You  answer:  We  have  pro 
vided  a  remedy,  but  it  is  a  secret !  We  are  not  allowed 
to  speak  of  it  there,  much  less  here.  It  was  only  com 
municated  to  us  confidentially,  in  whispers,  with 
closed  doors.  But  by  and  by  you  will  see  it  operate 
like  enchantment.  It  is  a  sovereign  balsam  which 
will  heal  your  wounded  honor;  it  is  a  potent  spell, 
or  a  kind  of  patent  medicine,  which  will  extinguish 
and  forever  put  at  rest  the  devouring  spirit  which  has 
desolated  so  many  nations  of  Europe.  You  never  can 
know  exactly  what  it  is;  nor  can  we  tell  you  pre 
cisely  the  time  it  will  begin  to  operate :  but  operate  it. 
certainly  will,  and  effectually,  too !  You  will  see 
strange  things  by  and  by ;  wait  patiently,  and  place 
full  faith  in  us,  for  we  cannot  be  mistaken ! 

"This  idle  tale  may  amuse  children,  but  the  men  of 
the  West  will  not  be  satisfied.  They  will  tell  you  that; 
they  expected  better  things  of  you,  that  their  confi 
dence  has  been  misplaced,  and  that  they  will  not  wait 
the  operation  of  your  newly  invented  drug ;  they  will 
go  and  redress  themselves ! ' ' 

Then  Mr.  Ross  proceeded  to  read  a  series  of  resolu 
tions  he  had  drawn  up,  the  most  important  part  of 
them  being  to  authorize  the  President  to  take  imme 
diate  possession  of  the  Isle  of  New  Orleans,  and  to 
raise  a  militia  army  not  exceeding  fifty  thousand  men 
in  the  Western  States,  to  cooperate  with  the  army  and 
navy  of  the  Union ;  and  that  the  sum  of  five  millions 
of  dollars  should  be  appropriated  to  carry  out  these 
resolutions. 

They  took  my  breath  away.     "What  would  I  not 


232  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

give  to  be  back  in  Kentucky!"  I  whispered  to  Mr. 
Lewis,  in  irrepressible  excitement. 

"Calm  yourself,  my  young  friend,"  he  whispered 
back.  "War  is  not  declared  yet.  Listen  to  this  next 
speech ;  it  is  Mr.  White  from  Delaware.  See  whether 
he  supports  or  opposes  the  resolutions." 

His  opening  sentence  answered  the  question : 

"As  to  the  closing  of  the  port  of  New  Orleans 
against  our  citizens,  the  man  who  can  now  doubt  that 
it  was  a  deliberate  act  of  the  Spanish  or  French  gov 
ernment  must  have  locked  up  his  mind  against  truth 
and  conviction,  and  be  determined  to  discredit  even 
the  evidence  of  his  own  senses.  But,  sir,  it  is  not  only 
the  depriving  us  of  our  right  of  deposit  by  which  we 
have  been  grieved :  it  is  by  a  system  of  measures  pur 
sued  antecedent  and  subsequent  to  that  event,  equally 
hostile  and  even  more  insulting.  I  have  in  my  hand  a 
paper  signed  by  a  Spanish  officer,  which,  with  the  in 
dulgence  of  the  chair,  I  will  read  to  the  Senate. ' ' 

Then  he  read  a  paper  signed  by  Carlos  de  Grand- 
pre,  warning  the  subjects  of  his  Majesty  of  Spain  that 
they  were  to  have  no  communications  with  America, 
and  couched  in  the  most  insulting  terms.  My  blood 
boiled  as  I  listened ! 

"These,"  said  Mr.  White,  "are  the  measures  that 
have  been  adopted  by  the  Spaniard,  excluding  us  from 
their  shores  for  a  distance  of  two  hundred  and  seventy 
miles,  treating  us  like  a  nation  of  pirates  and  banditti. 
Would  the  great  Washington  have  permitted  such  an 
insult  had  he  still  been  with  us  ?  Spain  has  dared  us 
to  the  trial,  and  now  bids  us  defiance.  She  is  yet  in 


A  GREAT  DEBATE  233 

possession  of  that  country ;  it  is  at  this  moment  within 
your  reach  and  within  your  power.  It  offers  a  sure 
and  easy  conquest.  We  should  have  to  encounter 
there  only  a  weak,  inactive,  and  unenterprising  peo 
ple.  But  how  may  a  few  months  vary  the  scene  and 
darken  our  prospects  !  Though  not  officially  informed, 
we  know  that  the  Spanish  provinces  on  the  Mississippi 
have  been  ceded  to  the  French,  and  that  they  will,  as 
soon  as  possible,  take  possession  of  them.  What  may 
we  then  expect?  When,  in  the  last  extremity,  we 
shall  be  drawn  to  arms  in  defense  of  our  indisputable 
rights,  where  now  slumbers  on  his  post  the  sluggish 
Spaniard  we  shall  be  hailed  by  the  vigilant  and  alert 
French  grenadier ;  and  in  the  defenseless  garrison  that 
would  now  surrender  at  our  approach  we  shall  see 
unfurled  the  standards  that  have  waved  triumphant 
in  Italy,  surrounded  by  impregnable  ramparts  and  de 
fended  by  the  disciplined  veterans  of  Europe.  I  am 
willing  to  attribute  to  honorable  gentlemen  the  best 
of  motives ;  I  am  sure  they  do  not  wish  to  involve  this 
country  in  a  war— and,  God  knows,  I  deprecate  its 
horrors  as  much  as  any  man.  But  this  business  can 
never  be  adjusted  abroad ;  it  will  ultimately  have  to  be 
settled  upon  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi ;  the  war  is 
inevitable  unless  honorable  gentlemen  opposed  to  us 
are  prepared  to  yield  up  the  best  interest  and  honor 
of  the  nation.  I  believe  the  only  question  now  in  our 
power  to  decide  is,  whether  it  shall  be  the  bloodless 
war  of  a  few  months  or  the  carnage  of  years. 

''These  observations  are  urged  upon  the  supposition 
that  it  is  in  the  power  of  the  government  to  restrain 


234  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

the  impetuosity  of  the  Western  people  and  to  prevent 
their  doing  justice  to  themselves,  which,  by  the  by,  I 
beg  to  be  understood  as  not  believing.  They  know 
their  own  strength;  they  know  the  feebleness  of  the 
enemy ;  they  know  the  infinite  importance  of  the  stake, 
and  they  feel — permit  me  to  say,  sir,  with  more  than 
mere  sensibility— the  insults  and  injuries  they  have 
received.  You  had  as  well  pretend  to  dam  up  the 
mouth  of  the  Mississippi,  and  say  to  its  restless  waves, 
i  Ye  shall  cease  here  and  never  mingle  with  the  ocean, ' 
as  to  expect  they  will  be  prevented  from  descending  it. 

"Without  the  free  use  of  the  river  and  the  necessary 
advantage  of  deposit  below  our  line,  their  fertile  coun 
try  is  not  worth  possession;  their  produce  must  be 
wasted  in  the  field  or  rot  in  the  granary.  These  are 
rights  not  only  guaranteed  to  them  by  treaty,  but  also 
given  to  them  by  the  God  of  nature,  and  they  will  en 
force  them,  with  or  without  the  authority  of  govern 
ment!" 

This  long  speech  (and  T  have  not  remembered  half 
of  it)  was  interrupted  by  frequent  bursts  of  applause, 
and  when  Mr.  White  sat  down,  it  was  amid  such  en 
thusiasm  of  cheering  as  quite  carried  me  off  my  feet. 

"Was  there  ever  such  a  speech?"  I  shouted  into 
Mr.  Lewis's  ear,  for  the  noise  was  deafening.  "That 
will  surely  win  the  day." 

"Wait,"  he  shouted  back,  "until  you  hear  the  other 
side.  That  is  Mr.  Jackson  of  Georgia  trying  to  get  the 
floor,  and,  if  I  mistake  not,  he  will  be  in  opposition, 
and  he  is  a  strong  speaker,  with  plenty  of  caustic 
wit." 


A  GREAT   DEBATE  235 

Mr.  Jackson  began  to  speak  with,  so  slow  a  drawl 
and  in  such  low  tones  that  at  first  I  hardly  thought 
him  an  adversary  to  be  dreaded.  But  as  he  warmed 
to  his  work  I  changed  my  mind. 

"What  is  the  course,"  he  began,  "which  we  have 
to  pursue?  Is  it  to  go  immediately  to  war  without 
asking  for  redress?  By  the  law  of  nations  and  the 
doctrines  of  all  writers  on  such  law,  you  are  not  justi 
fied  until  you  have  tried  every  possible  method  of  ob 
taining  redress  in  a  peaceable  manner.  It  is  only  in 
the  last  extremity,  when  you  have  no  other  expedient 
left,  that  a  recourse  to  arms  is  lawful  and  just,  and  I 
hope  the  United  States  will  never  forfeit  their  char 
acter  for  justice  by  any  hasty  or  rash  steps  which  they 
may,  too  late,  have  to  repent  of. 

"Sir,  we  have  been  told  much,  by  the  gentleman 
from  Delaware,  of  Bonaparte :  that  he  is  the  hero  of 
France,  the  conqueror  of  Italy,  the  tyrant  of  Ger 
many,  and  that  his  legions  are  invincible.  We  have 
been  told  that  we  must  hasten  to  take  possession  of 
New  Orleans  whilst  in  the  hands  of  the  sluggish  Span 
iards,  and  not  wait  until  it  is  in  the  iron  grip  of  the 
Caesar  of  modern  times.  But  much  as  I  respect  the 
fame  and  exploits  of  that  extraordinary  man,  I  be 
lieve  we  should  have  little  more  to  fear  from  him, 
should  it  be  necessary  in  the  end  to  contend  with  him 
for  the  possession  of  New  Orleans,  than  from  the  slug 
gish  Spaniards.  Bonaparte,  sir,  in  our  Southern 
country  would  be  lost  with  all  his  martial  talents. 
His  hollow  squares  and  horse  artillery  would  be  of 
little  service  to  him  in  the  midst  of  our  morasses  and 


236  THE  ROSE  OP  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

woods,  where  he  would  meet,  not  with  the  champaign 
country  of  Italy,— with  the  little  rivulets  commanded 
by  his  cannon  which  he  could  pass  at  leisure,— not 
with  the  fortified  cities  which  command  surrounding 
districts,  but  with  rivers  miles  wide,  and  swamps 
mortal  or  impenetrable  to  Europeans.  With  a  body 
of  only  ten  thousand  of  our  expert  riflemen  around 
him,  his  laurels  would  be  torn  from  his  brow,  and  he 
would  heartily  wish  himself  once  more  on  the  plains 
of  Italy. 

"The  sacred  name  of  Washington  has  been  un 
necessarily  appealed  to  on  this  as  on  many  other  occa 
sions,  and  we  have  been  boastingly  told  that  in  his 
time  no  nation  dared  insult  us.  Much,  sir,  as  I  re 
vere  his  memory,  acknowledging  him  among  the  fa 
thers  of  his  country,  was  this  the  fact?  Was  he  not 
insulted?— was  not  the  nation  insulted  under  his  ad 
ministration?  How  came  the  posts  to  be  detained 
after  the  definitive  treaty  with  Great  Britain  ?  What 
dictated  that  inhuman  deed  to  stir  up  horror  and  de 
struction  among  us— Lord  Dorchester's  insolent  and 
savage  speech  to  the  hordes  of  Indians  on  our  fron 
tiers  to  massacre  our  inhabitants  without  distinction? 
Were  those  not  insults  ?  Or  have  we  tamely  forgotten 
them  ?  Yet,  sir,  did  Washington  go  to  war  ?  He  did 
not;  he  preferred  negotiation,  and  sent  an  envoy  to 
Great  Britain.  Peace  was  obtained  by  a  treaty  with 
that  nation.  Shall  we,  then,  not  negotiate?  Shall  we 
not  follow  the  leading  feature  of  our  nation's  policy? 
We  are  all  actuated,  I  hope,  by  one  view,  but  we  dif 
fer  in  the  means.  Let  us  show  the  nations  of  the 


A  GREAT  DEBATE  237 

earth  we  are  not  anxious  for  war,  that  scourge  of 
mankind ;  that  we  bear  patiently  our  injuries,  in  hope 
of  redress. 

"But,  sir,  if  forced  to  war,  contrary  to  our  policy 
and  wish,  let  us  unsheathe  the  sword  and  fling  away 
the  scabbard  until  our  enemies  be  brought  to  a  sense 
of  justice  and  our  wrongs  be  redressed." 

Now  to  every  word  of  this  speech  I  had  listened 
breathlessly.  There  was  a  ring  in  Mr.  Jackson's  voice 
as  he  warmed  to  his  theme,  and  his  long  body  swayed 
in  the  power  of  his  own  eloquence,  that  moved  me 
mightily,  though  I  wished  not  to  be  moved. 

I  scarcely  listened  to  the  gentleman  that  followed 
(a  Mr.  Cocke  from  Tennessee),  so  intently  was  I  re 
viewing  Mr.  Jackson's  ringing  sentences,  and  won 
dering  if,  after  all,  he  was  right,  and  all  the  brave 
Kentuckians  who  had  been  so  loud  in  their  demands 
for  war  were  wrong.  But  one  or  two  sentences  of  Mr. 
Cocke  caught  my  ear ;  I  heard  him  say : 

"We  were  told  by  Mr.  Ross  that  we  were  bound  to 
go  to  war  for  this  right  which  God  and  nature  had 
given  to  the  Western  people.  What  are  we  to  under 
stand  by  this  right  given  by  God  and  nature  ?  Surely 
not  the  right  of  deposit,  for  that  was  given  by  treaty, 
and  as  to  the  right  of  navigation,  that  has  been  neither 
suspended  nor  brought  into  question.  But  we  are 
told  by  the  same  gentleman  that  the  possession  of  New 
Orleans  is  necessary  to  our  complete  security.  Leav 
ing  to  the  gentleman's  own  conscience  to  settle  the 
question  as  to  the  morality  of  taking  that  place  be 
cause  it  would  be  convenient,  I  beg  to  inform  him  that 


238  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

the  possession  of  it  would  not  give  us  complete  se 
curity.  ' ' 

What  further  Mr.  Cocke  said  I  do  not  know,  for  at 
that  moment  Mr.  Lewis  whispered  to  me : 

"Do  you  know  the  lady  in  the  gallery  opposite? 
She  has  been  for  some  time  covertly  regarding  one  of 
us,  and  I  think  it  must  be  you.  Do  not  look  at  her  just 
now;  look  at  the  right-hand  gallery,  and  then  gradu 
ally  let  your  glance  come  around  to  the  lady  wearing 
a  black  lace  veil  beside  the  pillar  in  the  front  row 
opposite. ' ' 

I  did  as  Mr.  Lewis  instructed— letting  my  glance 
finally  fall  in  the  most  casual  manner  where  he  indi 
cated.  But  as  I  did  so  my  heart  gave  a  great  bound. 
Could  that  be  Mademoiselle  Pelagic?  The  pose  of  the 
head,  the  dark  eyes  seen  dimly  through  the  lace  veil, 
the  little  ringlets  in  the  neck,  were  hers;  but  after  a 
moment  I  convinced  myself  that  it  was  only  a  chance 
resemblance.  I  had  left  Mademoiselle  Pelagic  in  Ken 
tucky  not  three  weeks  before,  with  no  intention  of 
coming  to  Washington,  but  of  going  direct  to  New 
York  as  soon  as  suitable  escort  could  be  found.  It 
would  hardly  be  within  the  bounds  of  possibility  that 
she  should  be  in  Washington  as  soon  as  I.  It  was 
true  I  had  been  detained  somewhat  on  the  route,  once 
by  losing  my  way,  and  once  by  Fatima  laming  her 
foot  and  causing  me  to  spend  two  days  with  a  Virginia 
planter  while  she  recovered  sufficiently  to  permit  our 
resuming  our  journey.  But  still  I  could  not  believe 
mademoiselle  could  have  accomplished  such  a  journey 
so  quickly,  and  when  I  had  left  her  there  had  been  a 


A  GREAT  DEBATE  239 

small  prospect  of  an  escort  to  New  York,  but  none  at 
all  to  Washington. 

So  I  told  Mr.  Meriwether  Lewis  that  the  lady  did 
indeed  remind  me  of  one  I  knew,  but  as  she  was  at 
that  moment  (I  had  every  reason  to  believe)  safe  with 
Mrs.  O'Fallon  at  Mulberry  Hill,  it  was  impossible  that 
it  could  be  she.  Then,  though  much  disturbed  by  this 
chance  resemblance  and  the  thronging  memories  it 
awakened,  I  addressed  myjelf  once  more  to  the  debate. 

I  was  just  in  time  to  see  rising  to  his  feet  the  hand 
somest  man  in  the  Senate,  as  I  had  long  before  de 
cided.  Mr.  Gouverneur  Morris,  with  his  clean-cut, 
aristocratic  features,  his  carefully  curled  peruke,  his 
fine  lace  ruffles  falling  over  his  long  white  hands,  and 
his  immaculate  stockings  and  pumps  with  their  glit 
tering  buckles,  was,  to  my  mind,  every  inch  the  gentle 
man,  and  quite  worthy  to  have  called  himself  a  blue- 
blooded  Philadelphian,  but  that  an  unkind  fate  had 
given  him  New  York  for  a  birthplace.  I  was  more 
than  curious  to  know  on  which  side  he  would  be,  and 
his  opening  sentence  filled  me  with  the  assurance  he 
was  on  the  right  side  and  every  word  was  weighted. 
Clear-cut,  each  sentence  dropped  from  his  lips  like  a 
string  of  burnished  jewels. 

' '  Had  Spain  the  right  to  make  this  cession  to  France 
without  our  consent?  Gentlemen  have  taken  it  for 
granted  that  she  had.  But  I  deny  the  position.  No 
nation  has  a  right  to  give  to  another  a  dangerous 
neighbor  without  her  consent.  He  who  renders  me 
insecure,  he  who  hazards  my  peace  and  exposes  me  to 
imminent  danger,  commits  an  act  of  hostility  against 


240  THE  ROSE  OF   OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

me  and  gives  me  the  rights  consequent  on  that  act. 
Suppose  Great  Britain  should  give  to  Algiers  one  of 
the  Bahamas,  and  contribute  thereby  to  establish  a 
nest  of  pirates  near  your  coast.  Would  you  not  con 
sider  it  as  an  aggression?  It  is  among  the  first  limi 
tations  to  the  exercise  of  the  rights  of  property  that 
we  must  so  use  our  own  as  not  to  injure  another,  and 
it  is  under  the  immediate  sense  of  this  restriction  that 
nations  are  bound  to  act  toward  each  other. 

' '  The  possession  of  Louisiana  by  the  ambitious  ruler 
of  France  would  give  him  in  the  New  World  the  pre 
ponderance  he  has  already  obtained  in  the  Old.  It 
becomes  the  United  States  to  show  that  they  do  not 
fear  him  who  is  the  ruler  of  all ;  and  it  specially  be 
hooves  the  young  and  growing  republic  to  interpose, 
in  order  to  revive  the  energy  and  resistance  of  the 
half-conquered  nations  of  Europe,  and  to  save  the 
expiring  liberties  of  mankind!" 

No  one  can  imagine  the  fire,  the  grace,  the  inspiring 
tones  and  gestures,  with  which  this  last  sentence  was 
uttered.  In  my  enthusiasm  I  looked  across  to  my  fair 
neighbor  in  the  opposite  gallery  for  sympathy. 
Through  the  veil  I  thought  I  caught  her  eye ;  but  by 
the  slightest  turn  of  her  head  and  an  almost  impercep 
tible  movement  of  her  hand  she  conveyed  to  me  (whe 
ther  intentionally  or  not,  I  was  not  sure)  that  she 
was  not  at  all  in  sympathy  with  the  speaker— indeed, 
that  she  disagreed  with  him  wholly. 

I  looked  down  again  into  the  arena  below  me. 
Slowly  rising  from  his  seat  was  a  figure  as  ungainly  as 
the  other  had  been  elegant.  Red  of  face,  with  features 


A  GREAT  DEBATE  241 

almost  coarse,  and  unwieldy  from  too  great  a  burden 
of  flesh,  I  recognized  at  once  Mr.  Morris's  colleague, 
the  famous  Mr.  Clinton  of  New  York.  What  he  said 
pleased  me  no  more  than  his  appearance,  yet  I  could 
but  own  that  no  speaker  had  spoken  with  more  force, 
more  caustic  satire,  or  more  fluent  eloquence.  I  had 
to  admit,  also,  that  there  was  a  flavor  of  good  sense 
and  practicability  about  much  that  he  said,  though 
I  was  loath  to  admit  it.  He  began  ponderously,  with 
pompous  tones;  but  as  he  went  on  his  voice  changed 
until  it  became  at  times  high  and  even  rasping. 

"Sublime,  sir,  as  these  speculations  may  appear 
to  the  eyes  of  some,  and  high-sounding  as  they  may 
strike  the  ears  of  many,  they  do  not  affect  me  with  any 
force.  In  the  first  place,  I  do  not  perceive  how  they 
bear  upon  the  question  before  me;  it  merely  refers 
to  the  seizure  of  New  Orleans,  not  to  the  maintenance 
of  the  balance  of  power.  Again,  of  all  characters,  I 
think  that  of  a  conquering  nation  least  becomes  the 
American  people.  What,  sir!  Shall  America  go 
forth,  like  another  Don  Quixote,  to  relieve  distressed 
nations  and  to  rescue  from  the  fangs  of  tyranny 
the  powerful  states  of  Britain,  Spain,  Austria,  Italy, 
the  Netherlands'?  Shall  she,  like  another  Phae- 
thon,  madly  ascend  the  chariot  of  Empire,  and 
spread  desolation  and  horror  over  the  world?  Shall 
she  attempt  to  restrain  the  career  of  a  nation,  which 
my  honorable  colleague  represents  to  have  been  ir 
resistible,  and  which  he  declares  has  appalled  the 
British  lion  and  the  imperial  eagle  of  the  house  of 
Austria?  Shall  we  wantonly  court  destruction  and 

16 


242  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

violate  all  the  maxims  of  policy  which  ought  to  gov 
ern  infant  and  free  republics  1  Let  us,  sir,  never  carry 
our  arms  into  the  territory  of  other  nations,  unless 
we  are  compelled  to  take  them  up  in  self-defense.  A 
pacific  character  is  of  all  others  most  important  for 
us  to  maintain.  With  a  sea-coast  of  two  thousand 
miles,  indented  with  harbors  and  lined  with  cities, 
with  an  extended  commerce,  and  with  a  population 
of  only  six  millions,  how  are  we  to  set  up  for  the 
avenger  of  nations'?  Can  gravity  itself  refrain  itself 
from  laughter  at  the  figure  which  my  honorable  col 
league  would  wish  us  to  make  on  the  theater  of  the 
world?  He  would  put  a  fool's  cap  on  our  head  and 
dress  us  up  in  the  parti-colored  robes  of  a  harlequin 
for  the  nations  of  the  world  to  laugh  at.  And  after  all 
the  puissant  knights  of  the  times  have  been  worsted  in 
the  tournament  by  the  Orlando  Furioso  of  France,  we 
must  then,  forsooth,  come  forward  and  console  them 
for  their  defeat  by  an  exhibition  of  our  follies ! 

"I  look,  sir,  upon  all  the  dangers  we  heard  about 
the  French  possession  of  Louisiana  as  visionary  and 
idle.  Twenty  years  must  roll  over  our  heads  before 
France  can  establish  in  that  country  a  population  of 
two  hundred  thousand  souls.  What,  in  the  meantime, 
will  become  of  your  Southern  and  Western  States? 
Are  they  not  advancing  to  greatness  with  a  giant's 
stride  ?  The  Western  States  will  then  contain  on  their 
borders  millions  of  free  and  hardy  republicans,  able 
to  crush  every  daring  invader  of  their  rights!" 

There  was  a  slight  stir  in  the  gallery  opposite.  I 
looked  up  to  see  the  figure  in  black  rising  from  her 


A  GREAT  DEBATE  243 

seat.  But  even  as  I  looked  I  thought  I  caught  a  direct 
glance  from  the  dark  eyes,  and  I  could  almost  have 
sworn  there  was  a  slight  wave  of  the  hand  as  if  in 
parting  salute  to  me.  Her  companion,  an  older  lady, 
rose  with  her,  and  together  they  turned  and  left  the 
gallery.  Once  more  I  was  struck  by  the  startling 
resemblance  to  Mademoiselle  Pelagie  in  every  move 
ment,  and  in  the  outlines  of  the  graceful  figure.  I 
heard  nothing  more  Mr.  Clinton  had  to  say;  I  was 
lost  in  an  abstracted  reverie  as  to  the  possibility  of  its 
being  mademoiselle  in  the  flesh.  I  would  have  liked 
to  propose  to  Mr.  Lewis  that  we  go  out  and  follow  the 
mysterious  figure,  but  cold  reason  assured  me  that 
mademoiselle  was  many  miles  away,  and  it  was 
but  a  fond  fancy  that  pictured  her  image  in  every 
dark-eyed  maiden,  and  so  shamed  me  from  such  a 
foolish  pursuit. 

"Shall  we  go?"  said  Mr.  Lewis.  "There  will  be 
no  vote— probably  none  for  a  week  at  least." 

I  started  from  my  reverie  to  find  the  debate  over, 
the  Senate  adjourned,  floor  and  gallery  rapidly  clear 
ing.  I  answered  with  alacrity,  hoping  he  had  not 
discovered  my  abstraction: 

"By  all  means.  It  has  been  a  grand  occasion,  and  I 
am  much  indebted  to  you,  sir,  for  giving  me  the  op 
portunity  of  hearing  so  great  a  debate." 

Through  the  long  corridors  I  hurried  Mr.  Lewis, 
eagerly  scanning  the  throng  for  a  glimpse  of  that 
figure,  which  I  hoped  we  might  overtake;  but  it  had 
utterly  vanished.  Outside  we  found  our  horses  wait 
ing,  and  together  we  picked  a  rough  and  broken  path 


244  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

down  Capitol  Hill,  and  then  a  smoother  road  where 
we  could  put  our  horses  to  a  canter  up  the  avenue; 
a  gay  throng  in  coaches,  in  saddle,  and  on  foot  accom 
panying  us,  and  Mr.  Meriwether  Lewis  saluting  to 
right  and  left  as  we  passed  the  more  leisurely  ones, 
or  were  passed  by  those  riding  or  driving  in  reck 
less  haste.  And  so  on  to  my  inn,  where  Bandy  Jim, 
still  industriously  polishing  boots  on  the  sidewalk, 
ducked  his  white  head  with  a  joyous  '  Howdy, 
marsa!"  and  I  felt  as  if  an  old  friend  was  welcoming 
me  home. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

A    MAGIC    COACH 
"And  we  meet  with  champagne  and  a  chicken." 

I  HAD  made  rny  toilet  with  such  despatch  that 
scarcely  an  hour  after  parting  with  Mr.  Lewis 
at  my  inn  I  found  myself  once  more  at  the  White 
House.  This  time  I  was  ushered  up-stairs  into  an 
oval  room,  very  gorgeously  furnished  in  crimson, 
where  the  President  was  waiting,  and  a  few  of  his 
guests.  Beside  him  stood  Mistress  Madison,  helping 
him  to  receive;  for  his  daughters  were  both  away  at 
their  homes.  I  improved  the  moment  when  she  was 
speaking  to  some  guests,  who  had  arrived  just  before 
me,  to  look  at  her  well.  I  had  heard  much  of  her,  and 
I  knew  my  sisters  at  home  would  want  me  to  tell  them 
exactly  how  she  looked  and  what  she  wore. 

I  think  I  have  often  seen  more  beautiful  women 
(a  dark-eyed  maiden  from  France  was  in  my  mind  at 
the  moment  as  far  more  beautiful),  but  rarely  have 
I  seen  a  face  lighted  up  with  more  of  animation  and 
good  humor.  On  her  head  she  wore  an  article  of  dress 
which  I  had  heard  described  as  worn  by  the  ladies  of 
London  and  Paris,  but  which  I  had  never  before 
seen;  for  the  head-dresses  of  the  Frenchwomen  in 

245 


246  THE  ROSE  OF   OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

St.  Louis,  while  in  some  respects  quite  as  remarkable, 
bore  not  the  slightest  resemblance  to  this  of  Mistress 
Madison's.  It  was  a  Turkish  turban  of  white  satin 
and  velvet,  with  a  jeweled  crescent  in  front  clasping  a 
bunch  of  nodding  white  ostrich-plumes.  Her  gown, 
of  pale  pink  satin,  was  heavily  trimmed  with  ermine, 
and  she  wore  gold  chains  about  her  waist  and  wrists, 
and  carried  a  jeweled  snuff-box  in  her  hand.  She 
was  truly  regal-looking,  and  I  did  not  wonder  that 
people  sometimes  laughingly  spoke  of  her  as  "her 
Majesty."  Her  turban  especially,  I  think,  gave  her 
an  indescribable  air  of  distinction ;  but  I  was  not  quite 
sure  that  I  thought  it  as  becoming  as  the  dark  curl 
ing  locks  of  the  very  beautiful  lady  who  stood  beside 
her. 

Mr.  Lewis,  at  this  moment  descrying  me,  came  for 
ward  to  present  me  to  the  President  and  to  Mistress 
Madison,  who  put  me  at  my  ease  at  once  by  inquiring 
for  my  mother  and  for  many  of  my  Philadelphia  kin, 
who,  she  declared,  were  old  and  very  dear  friends. 
I  would  have  liked  to  linger  at  her  side,  for  she  made 
me  much  at  home,  and  I  liked  not  to  turn  away  and 
find  myself  among  a  roomful  of  strangers ;  but  I  knew 
there  were  others  waiting  to  be  received  by  her,  and  I 
must  move  on. 

As  I  turned  from  her,  a  voice  in  my  ear  said  imperi 
ously  : 

"Well,  sir,  and  have  you  no  word  for  your  old 
friend,  Fanny  Cadwalader?" 

I  turned  quickly ;  it  was  the  beautiful  lady  with  the 
dark  curls. 


A  MAGIC  COACH  247 

"Miss  Fanny!"  I  cried  in  joyous  recognition,  and 
bent  low  over  her  extended  hand. 

I  had  been  but  a  young  boy  when  Frances  Cad- 
walader  married  Mr.  Erskine  and  went  to  London  to 
live;  but  we  had  been  great  friends  as  children,  and 
I  did  not  understand  how  I  had  failed  to  recognize 
her.  She  bade  me  stand  beside  her  and  she  would 
point  out  all  the  distinguished  guests,  and  I  was  glad 
indeed  of  her  protection.  In  reply  to  my  eager  ques 
tion  as  to  how  she  came  to  be  in  Washington,  she  told 
me  that  her  husband  had  been  appointed  minister 
from  Great  Britain  in  Mr.  Merry's  place,  and  they 
were  but  newly  arrived. 

"But  where  have  you  been  living,  sir,"  she  asked, 
with  mock  severity,  "that  you  know  nothing  of  what 
has  been  going  on  in  the  great  world?  Or  are  we 
personages  of  so  small  importance  that  our  movements 
are  not  chronicled  in  America  ? '  * 

I  had  to  explain  that  I  had  been  in  the  backwoods 
for  months,  and  for  the  last  two  months  in  the  for 
eign  colony  of  Louisiana,  in  the  village  of  St.  Louis, 
where  little  of  the  doings  of  the  outside  world  pene 
trated. 

She  forgave  me  my  ignorance,  and  immediately 
pointed  out  to  me  her  husband,  a  fine-looking  English 
man,  talking  to  the  most  gorgeously  arrayed  creature 
I  had  ever  beheld:  satin,  laces,  velvets,  jewels,  gold 
lace,  and  powder  made  up  a  dazzling  ensemble. 

"That,"  said  she,  "is  the  Marquis  de  Casa  Yrujo, 
and  the  lady  with  him  is  his  wife,  Sally  McKean.  He 
is  magnificent,  is  he  not?  I  would  not  quite  like  it  if 


:248  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

I  were  the  marchioness,  for  people  look  at  him  instead 
of  her,  and  she  is  quite  beautiful  enough  to  be  looked 
at  herself. " 

"Ah,  why  begrudge  the  marquis  his  meed  of  ad 
miration,  if  he  likes  it?"  I  said.  "And  since  he  likes 
it,  let  us  be  grateful,  for  his  sake,  that  it  is  not  Mis 
tress  Erskine  who  is  the  marchioness,  for  who  can  see 
the  glitter  of  the  stars  when  the  lovely  moon  is  in  the 
sky?" 

She  laughed  good-naturedly  at  my  gallantry,  but 
I  think  she  also  liked  it.  We  were  standing  near  a 
window  that  looked  out  on  the  front  approach  to 
the  White  House.  Suddenly  Mistress  Erskine  ex 
claimed  : 

"Look,  look  quick,  my  friend!  Here  is  magnifi 
cence  indeed!" 

I  looked  as  she  bade  me,  and  saw  what  I  conceived 
to  be  a  rolling  ball  of  burnished  gold  borne  swiftly 
through  the  air  by  two  gilt  wings.  As  it  came  nearer 
we  both  grew  more  excited— I  because  I  did  not  know 
what  it  was  (and  it  looked  more  like  a  fairy  coach  than 
anything  I  had  dreamed  of),  and  she  both  because 
she  enjoyed  my  bewilderment  and  because  she  loved 
magnificence.  By  this  time  as  many  of  the  other 
guests  as  were  near  windows  and  could  look  out  with 
out  seeming  to  be  over-eager,  or  discourteous  to  their 
host,  were  doing  so.  The  rolling  golden  ball  came  to 
the  very  foot  of  the  White  House  steps  and  stopped. 
What  I  had  taken  to  be  two  gilt  wings  proved  to  be 
nothing  more  than  gorgeous  footmen,  with  chapeaux 
'braSy  gilt-braided  skirts,  and  splendid  swords.  They 
sprang  to  the  ground,  opened  the  door  of  the  coach, 


A  MAGIC  COACH  240 

and  from  it  alighted  the  French  minister,  weighted 
with  gold  lace  and  glittering  with  diamonds  and  jew 
eled  orders.  He  turned  with  stately  ceremony  to 
offer  his  hand  to  a  lady  who  was  alighting  from  the 
coach.  First  a  tiny  foot  in  high-arched  slippers  and 
embroidered  stocking;  then  a  glimpse  of  a  skirt,  pale 
pink  and  silver  brocade,  that  had  a  strangely  familiar 
air.  I  looked  quickly  at  the  head  just  emerging — 
waving  black  curls,  dark  glowing  eyes,  a  complexion 
of  ivory  tinted  with  rose. 

It  was  Mademoiselle  Pelagie ! 

My  head  swam.  Was  it  indeed  all  a  bit  of  enchant 
ment?  The  golden  coach,  the  gorgeous  footmen,  the 
dazzling  minister  of  France,  and— Pelagie !  Mrs.  Er- 
skine  noted  my  agitation. 

"Qu'as-tu,  m'ami?"  she  said  softly.  "You  know 
her,  then?" 

"Know  whom,  madam?"  I  asked,  trying  to  get 
myself  under  control  and  seem  indifferent. 

"Our  new  sensation,  the  Great  Lady  of  France, 
whom  all  the  town  is  talking  of.  She  arrived  two  days 
ago  at  the  house  of  the  French  minister,  and  is  staying 
there,  it  is  said,  under  his  protection,  until  she  chall 
find  suitable  escort  to  Paris,  where  she  goes  to  take 
possession  of  her  estates  returned  to  her  by  Bonaparte. 
This  is  what  rumor  says,  and  it  looks  as  if  it  were 
true  that  she  is  a  great  lady,  since  the  minister  has 
handed  her  from  the  carriage  before  his  own  wife. 
We  will  wait  now  to  see  where  the  President  seats  her 
at  table;  that  will  decide  it." 

I  was  trying  hard  to  hold  myself  in  hand  and  maker 
suitable  answer. 


250  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"Is  the  President  such  a  stickler,  then,  for  form  and 
ceremony?  We  had  heard  otherwise/' 

Mistress  Erskine  laughed: 

' '  True,  I  forgot.  If  he  had  been  as  particular  as  he 
should  concerning  precedence,  I  should  not  be  here. 
You  know,  do  you  not,  that  my  husband's  predecessor 
quarreled  with  President  Jefferson  because  he  gave 
his  arm  to  Dolly  Madison,  in  going  in  to  dinner,  in 
stead  of  to  the  wife  of  the  British  minister?" 

"Yes;  I  have  heard  of  the  'Merry  War,'  "  I  an 
swered,  and  stopped.  Not  another  word  could  I  utter. 
Nor  apparently  could  anybody  else  in  the  room;  for 
every  voice  was  hushed  as  all  eyes  were  turned  to  the 
door  where  the  French  minister  was  entering  with  his 
wife  on  his  left  arm,  and  what  I  veritably  believed  to 
be  the  most  beautiful  creature  in  the  world  on  his 
right. 

It  was  a  brilliant  spectacle ;  for  the  French  minister 
and  his  wife  dazzled  the  sight  by  the  glitter  of  gold 
lace  and  the  flash  of  jewels,  and  Pelagic  blinded  the 
eyes  as  truly  by  a  vision  of  radiant  dark  eyes,  soft 
black  tresses  curling  around  a  white  throat,  the  gleam 
of  snowy  neck  and  rounded  arms  through  rare  lace, 
and  the  color  of  the  rose  slowly  tinting  the  rich 
ivory  of  her  cheeks,  as  they  passed  through  a  double 
lane  of  guests  to  speak  to  the  President. 

Now  was  I  in  two  minds  whether  to  be  supremely 
happy  in  once  more  beholding  Mademoiselle  Pelagic, 
whose  graceful  figure  I  thought  had  forever  faded 
from  my  sight  when  the  boat  rounded  the  bend  of  the 
Ohio,  or  to  be  most  miserable  lest  here  among 


A  MAGIC  COACH  251 

courtiers,  and  taking  her  rightful  place  with  the 
great  of  the  earth,  she  should  no  longer  condescend 
to  show  me  the  friendliness  she  had  shown  on  our  last 
evening  on  the  river.  Neither  was  I  quite  sure  whe 
ther  it  was  my  place  to  go  forward  and  speak  to  her 
or  to  await  her  pleasure  in  speaking  to  me. 

But  Mistress  Erskine  solved  the  problem. 

"You  do  know  her,"  she  said— "I  see  it  in  your 
eyes ;  and  you  must  present  me  at  once.  And  do  tell 
me,"  she  added  eagerly:  "is  she  so  great  a  lady? 
We  have  heard  so  many  rumors  about  her ;  what  is  the 
truth?" 

"I  have  only  known  her,"  I  answered,  "as  Made 
moiselle  Pelagie  de  Villa  Real.  I  know  that  in  France 
she  is  of  high  rank,  but  I  do  not  know  what." 

"Ah,"  she  said,  with  a  little  gesture  of  disappoint 
ment,  "then  you  cannot  introduce  me  properly,  and 
I  shall  have  to  trust  to  that  astute  diplomat  that  he 
gives  her  her  right  title.  Does  she  know  it  herself?" 

"I  think  she  did  not  when  she  left  St.  Louis,"  I 
answered,  "but  her  new  friends  may  have  revealed 
it  to  her." 

"On  second  thought,"  said  she,  "I  believe  I  will 
ask  you  to  present  her  to  me  instead  of  the  minister, 
if  you  will ;  I  would  ""like  to  see  how  she  takes  the 
'Mademoiselle  de  Villa  Real.'  " 

So  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  brace  up  my  cour 
age  and  go  forward  to  speak  to  mademoiselle.  Nothing 
could  have  been  sweeter  and  more  friendly  than  her 
greeting,  and  with  no  trace  of  embarrassment,  though 
I  thought  the  French  minister  regarded  me  with  a 


252  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

coldly  critical  eye.  Beside  his  magnificence  I  did  feel 
rather  shabby;  for,  though  Yorke  had  done  his  best 
to  freshen  and  restore  my  purple  velvets  by  steaming 
and  other  appliances,  they  still  were  the  worse  for 
much  service  (especially  the  encounter  with  the  cheva 
lier),  and  for  many  packings  in  saddle-bags.  Of  my 
lace  ruffles  I  was  justly  proud,  for  no  courtier's  in  the 
room  were  finer  or  richer,  and  my  sword  and  scabbard 
were  not  to  be  ashamed  of,  for  though  not  so  bejew- 
eled  as  some,  they  were  of  the  finest  workmanship  and 
inlaid  with  gold  and  pearl. 

Mademoiselle  presented  me  to  the  French  minister 
very  prettily,  however;  and  though  I  thought  his 
greeting  somewhat  scant  in  courtesy,  I  attributed  it  to 
the  suspicions  he  would  naturally  have,  as  made 
moiselle's  guardian,  of  a  young  gentleman  of  whom 
he  knew  nothing,  and  whom  mademoiselle  received  so 
kindly. 

I  at  once  preferred  Mistress  Erskine's  request,  but 
the  minister  gave  Pelagie  no  chance  to  reply. 

"I  will  myself  present  the  comtesse  to  the  wife  of 
the  British  ambassador,"  he  said  with  alacrity,  and  led 
her  away  to  Mistress  Erskine. 

I  saw  that  he  had  availed  himself  of  this  oppor 
tunity  to  cut  short  my  interview  with  mademoiselle; 
but,  not  to  be  outdone  in  diplomacy,  I  followed  lei 
surely,  and  was  in  time  to  hear  the  minister  say : 

' '  It  gives  me  pleasure  to  present  to  Madame  Erskine 
the  Comtesse  de  Baloit."  And  I  saw  by  the  profound 
curtsy  Mistress  Erskine  made  (and  which  mademoi 
selle  returned  very  prettily,  but  with  a  touch  of  con- 


A  MAGIC  COACH  253' 

descension,  I  thought)  that  that  name  meant  some 
thing  more  to  her  than  it  did  to  me. 

After  the  fashion  of  women,  the  two  began  at  once  a 
lively  chatter  in  French,  and  I  saw  myself  like  to  be 
shut  out  in  the  cold,  with  no  further  opportunity  for 
converse  with  mademoiselle.  But  I  would  not  desert 
my  post,  hoping  sooner  or  later  to  get  my  chance.  And 
I  was  rewarded ;  for  in  a  few  minutes  Mistress  Erskine 
was  called  to  receive  another  presentation.  But  as 
she  turned  away  she  whispered  in  my  ear : 

"Be  careful  how  you  behave,  sir;  she  is  of  the  blood 
royal!" 

Blood  royal  or  not,  she  would  always  be  Mademoi 
selle  Pelagie  to  me,  and  I  was  not  going  to  lose  my 
opportunity. 

"Tell  me,  Comtesse,"  I  said,  "how  you  came  here. 
When  I  saw  you  last  you  had  no  idea  of  coming  ta 
Washington. ' ' 

She  did  not  answer  my  question  at  once,  but,  glanc 
ing  up  at  me  from  under  her  long  lashes  in  the  most 
adorable  fashion,  she  said  softly : 

"You  used  to  call  me  Comtesse  when  you  were 
angry.  Are  you  angry  now?" 

"No,  not  when  I  was  angry,"  I  answered,  "but 
when  you  were— were— " 

"Proud  and  naughty  and  altogether  disagreeable,"' 
she  interposed  quickly;  "and  that  was  very  often,, 
was  it  not,  Monsieur?" 

"Yes,  Comtesse." 

"I  am  not  either  now,  am  I?  Then  why  do  you  not 
call  me  Mademoiselle?" 


254  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"No,  indeed!  You  are"— I  was  going  to  say 
"adorable,"  but  I  finished  tamely— "neither.  But 
you  are  really  Comtesse,  and  it  is  proper  I  should  call 
you  so."  And  before  I  was  aware  of  what  I  was 
doing,  I  fetched  a  great  sigh  from  the  bottom  of  my 
boots.  She  understood,  and  looked  up  at  me  with  a 
pathetic  little  smile  that  was  sadder  than  my  sigh. 

' '  I  am  sorry,  too ;  I  think  I  would  rather  be  made 
moiselle,"  she  said. 

"And  of  the  blood  royal!"  I  added  severely,  as  if 
accusing  her  of  a  crime. 

She  dropped  her  eyes. 

"I  cannot  help  it.  I  never  knew  till  yesterday," 
meekly. 

"And  your  guardian,"  I  indicated  the  French  min 
ister  with  a  slight  nod  in  his  direction,  "thinks  it 
great  presumption  for  a  plain  Yankee  gentleman  to 
be  talking  on  such  familiar  terms  with  a  princess  of 
the  blood,  and  is  coming  in  a  few  minutes  to  put  a 
stop  to  it." 

She  looked  at  the  minister  quickly  with  a  haughty 
turn  of  the  head  and  a  flashing  glance,  but  in  a  mo 
ment  she  turned  back  to  me  with  a  smile  curling  her 
scarlet  lips  and  a  humorous  twinkle  in  her  eye. 

"He  would  never  dare,"  she  said.  "He  is  a  good 
Citizen  of  the  Republic." 

"Nevertheless  he  will  dare,"  I  insisted.  "I  see  it 
in  his  eye;  so  first  tell  me  quickly  how  you  got  here, 
and  when  and  where  you  are  going." 

"Your  boat  was  hardly  out  of  sight,  Monsieur," 
she  answered,  ' '  when  another  came  up  the  river  direct 


A  MAGIC  COACH  255 

from  St.  Louis  with  Monsieur  and  Madame  Cerre 
aboard.  They  brought  letters  from  my  guardian  di 
recting  me  to  go  on  with  them  to  Washington  (where 
they  were  going  to  see  the  Spanish  minister  about 
some  trouble  they  had  had  with  Americans — concern 
ing  peltries,  I  think,  and  land,  perhaps),  and  they 
would  place  me  in  the  French  minister's  care.  I  did 
not  expect  to  find  you  here,  for  we  were  a  whole  day 
behind  you;  but  we  traveled  rapidly." 

"And  I  was  delayed,"  I  said.  "But  when  and 
how  are  you  to  get  to  Paris  ?  With  the  Livingstons  ? ' ' 

"No;  Citizen  Pichon  says  they  sailed  this  week. 
But  he  tells  me,  what  is  not  generally  known,  that 
your  government  is  about  to  send  a  special  envoy  to 
France  concerning  New  Orleans— a  Monsieur  Mon 
roe;  and  Monsieur  Pichon  has  arranged  that  I  shall 
go  with  him." 

"Do  you  know  when?"  I  asked  hastily,  for  I  saw 
the  President  moving  toward  us  with  the  Marquis  de 
Casa  Yrujo,  and  I  was  quite  sure  that  meant  an  end  to 
all  conversation. 

"Not  for  several  weeks,  I  believe;  but  I  am  not 
sure,"  she  answered. 

"Will  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit  permit  me  to  present 
the  Marquis  de  Casa  Yrujo,  who  will  take  her  out  to 
dinner?"  And  the  President  was  adding  a  pretty  lit 
tle  speech  of  compliment,  in  his  gallant  way,  and  the 
marquis  was  bowing  solemnly  and  profoundly,  and  the 
comtesse  was  curtsying  and  smiling,  and  I  was  left  en 
tirely  out  in  the  cold.  I  was  rescued  by  Mistress 
Madison. 


256  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"I  would  like  nothing  better  than  to  give  yon  your 
old  friend  Mistress  Erskine  to  take  out  to  dinner," 
she  said,  smiling.  "It  is  forlorn  for  a  young  man 
among  so  many  grown-ups,  and  the  only  young  maiden 
snatched  away  from  him.  But  the  President  is  not 
going  to  blunder  twice  in  the  same  fashion,  and  will 
take  Mistress  Erskine  himself.  Now  I  will  give  you 
your  choice  among  the  rest.  Whom  would  you  like 
to  take?" 

"Ah,  your  Majesty,"  I  answered  quickly,  hand  on 
my  heart  and  bowing  low,  but  smiling  up  at  her,— 
for  she  was  a  woman  into  whose  amiable,  cordial  face 
no  man  could  look  without  smiling, — "I  suppose  I  dare 
not  lift  my  eyes  as  high  as  my  heart  would  dictate,  and 
since  you  are  out  of  the  question,  I  care  not  whom  you 
give  me." 

"Saucy  boy !"— and  she  tapped  me  lightly  with  her 
snuff-box,— "I  vow  I  think  you  would  be  vastly  more 
fun  than  the  British  minister,  but  my  country  de 
mands  that  I  sacrifice  myself.  I  will  give  you  the 
Marchioness  de  Casa  Yrujo.  If  you  do  not  know 
Sally  McKean,  she  certainly  knew  you  when  you 
were  in  petticoats." 

So  I  found  myself  seated  at  table  between  the  most 
brilliant  woman  there  and  the  most  beautiful ;  for  the 
Marchioness  de  Casa  Yrujo  was  universally  conceded 
to  be  the  one,  and  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit  was,  in  my 
esteem  at  least,  as  certainly  the  other. 

It  was  a  long  table,  and  bounteously  furnished  — 
lacking,  perhaps,  some  of  the  elegance  of  the  Phila 
delphia  tables  I  had  been  accustomed  to,  but  with  a 


A  MAGIC  COACH  257 

lavish  prodigality  native  to  the  South.  Two  new 
guests  had  arrived  while  I  had  been  so  engrossed  in 
talking  to  the  comtesse  that  I  had  not  observed  their 
entrance,  a  gentleman  and  his  wife.  The  lady  was 
amiable-looking,  but  of  no  great  distinction  of  ap 
pearance.  The  gentleman  I  thought  I  had  seen  be 
fore;  his  long,  rather  lean  visage,  somber  but  digni 
fied,  looked  familiar  to  me.  When  the  marchioness 
told  me  it  was  Mr.  Monroe,  I  wondered  that  I  had  not 
recognized  him  at  once,  for  he  was  a  familiar  figure 
on  our  streets  during  the  ten  years  when  Philadelphia 
was  the  capital.  Moreover,  I  could  have  vowed  he 
was  wearing  the  same  sad-colored  drab  clothes  he  used 
to  appear  in  then,  so  entirely  unchanged  were  both 
cut  and  color.  I  looked  at  him  now  with  great  inter 
est,  for  was  he  not  to  decide  the  fortunes  of  the  West  ? 
— in  which  I  could  have  taken  no  greater  interest  had 
I  been  Western-born.  And,  more  than  that,  was  he 
not  appointed  to  what  seemed  to  me  a  mission  of  far 
greater  importance,  the  conveying  of  mademoiselle  in 
safety  to  her  home? 

I  could  have  wished  Mistress  Monroe  was  to  accom 
pany  him,  for  she  had  an  air  of  motherly  kindliness 
that  I  felt  would  be  both  protection  and  comfort  to 
Mademoiselle  Pelagic;  and  aside  from  the  fact  that 
there  was  something  cold  and  austere  in  Mr.  Monroe's 
face,  I  was  sufficiently  imbued  with  Mr.  Hamilton's 
ideas  to  feel  no  great  confidence  in  the  man.  (Wherein 
I  have  since  thought  I  did  Mr.  Monroe  great  injustice, 
since  in  every  act  of  his  life  he  has  proved  himself  a 
high-minded  gentleman.  But  Mr.  Hamilton 's  personal 

17 


258  THE  ROSE  OF   OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

magnetism  was  so  great  that  it  was  quite  impossible, 
for  us  younger  men  at  least,  not  to  feel  that  every  one 
who  differed  with  him  must  be,  if  not  wholly  unprin 
cipled,  at  least  worthy  of  doubt  and  suspicion.) 

It  was  a  brilliant  dinner- table,  for  the  exciting  de 
bate  at  the  Capitol  furnished  a  theme  that  loosed  every 
tongue.  Yet  I  could  see  that  the  President,  while  he 
kept  the  ball  rolling  with  a  gaiety  and  good  humor 
that  rather  surprised  me,  was  himself  most  guarded. 
Indeed,  many  were  restrained,  no  doubt,  from  saying 
quite  what  they  thought  by  the  presence  of  the  Span 
ish  minister,  who  at  that  time  was  at  the  height  of  his 
popularity— his  course  in  the  Louisiana  affair,  which 
made  him  so  many  enemies,  not  having  been  taken 
until  later. 

Yet  most  of  those  present  were  more  in  sympathy 
with  Clinton  of  New  York  and  Jackson  of  Georgia 
than  with  Ross  of  Pennsylvania  and  Gouverneur  Mor 
ris.  When  Mr.  Erskine  spoke  of  Gouverneur  Morris's 
speech  as  a  masterly  effort,  the  President,  whom  he  ad 
dressed,  replied  only  by  a  smile  so  coldly  polite  that  it 
was  like  a  dash  of  cold  water,  not  only  to  the  British 
minister,  but  to  the  whole  table. 

I  was  ever  a  blundering  idiot,  and  knew  not  when  to 
leave  well  enough  alone ;  neither  had  I  ever  the  heart 
to  see  fellow-man  discomfited  (especially  if  he  were  on 
my  side  of  the  question)  without  going  at  once  to  his 
aid.  So,  forgetting  that  it  was  the  powerful  minister 
of  a  great  nation,  who  needed  no  help  from  a  man  en 
tirely  unknown  in  the  great  world  and  of  extreme 
youth,  I  plunged  boldly  in. 


A  MAGIC   COACH  259 

"I  agree  with  you,  sir,  most  heartily,"  I  said.  "In 
force  and  polish  and  weight  of  argument  it  was  be 
yond  compare.  But  I  expected  nothing  less  from 
Gouverneur  Morris. " 

There  was  a  dead  silence  around  the  table;  even 
the  British  minister  had  not  the  temerity  to  do  more 
than  bow  his  thanks  in  the  face  of  Jefferson's  icy 
smile.  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  marquis's  profile; 
he  was  frowning  heavily.  The  French  minister's  face 
was  a  blank,  and  so  was  Mr.  Monr  •  \  Pelagie 
looked  the  picture  of  distress,  and  Mr.  Lewis  made  me 
a  slight  gesture  which  I  took  to  mean,  "Keep  still." 
Even  Mistress  Erskine  looked  embarrassed,  and  I 
could  understand  none  of  it.  But  as  I  caught  Mis 
tress  Madison's  eye  there  was  a  twinkle  of  humor  in 
it,  and  she  gave  the  slightest,  very  slightest  nod  in  the 
world  toward  the  President. 

Then  at  once  it  flashed  upon  me :  Gouverneur  Mor 
ris  was  bosom  friend  to  Mr.  Hamilton,  and  this  was 
no  place  to  be  lauding  him  to  the  skies.  Then  was  I 
seized  with  a  rage  against  the  restraints  of  society, 
that  would  not  permit  me  to  fling  defiance  in  the  face 
of  all  these  grandees,— aye,  and  of  the  President  him 
self—and  declare  my  allegiance  to  Hamilton  and  his 
friends.  And  mingled  with  my  rage  was  an  intoler 
able  sense  of  mortification  that  I  had  made  such  an  ar 
rant  fool  of  myself  before  all  these  older  men  and 
lovely  women.  But,  with  a  tact  for  which  I  can  never 
be  sufficiently  grateful  to  her,  Mistress  Madison 
turned  at  once  to  Pelagie. 

"Comtesse,"  she  said,  "you  are  fresh  from  the  col- 


260  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

ony  of  Louisiana,  in  which  we  are  all  so  deeply  in 
terested;  tell  us  something  about  your  life  in  St. 
Louis,  and  how  you  found  your  Spanish  rulers." 

And  mademoiselle,  understanding,  responded  at 
once  with  glowing  descriptions  of  her  happy  life  there, 
and  the  courtesy  and  polish  of  the  people,  with  many 
gay  little  touches  of  rude  and  funny  experience. 
Everybody  thawed  at  once ;  for  most  of  those  present 
had  been  much  in  Paris  and  could  understand  her 
French  as  erslly  as  I.  The  President  became  as  genial 
as  he  had  been  icy,  and  he  insisted  on  drawing  me  also 
into  the  conversation  (I  think  for  the  purpose  of  giv 
ing  me  an  opportunity  of  retrieving  myself) ,  in  which 
I  hope  I  bore  my  part  modestly ;  for  I  like  not  to  seem 
either  presumptuous  or  vainglorious,  though,  because  I 
am  a  blunderer,  I  no  doubt  seem  sometimes  to  be  both. 

The  curtains  had  been  drawn  and  the  candles 
lighted  when  we  sat  down  to  dinner,  though  the  sun 
was  still  shining;  but  the  short  winter  afternoon  had 
rapidly  passed  into  evening,  and  then  into  dark  night, 
and  we  still  lingered  at  the  table.  Talk  had  grown 
more  and  more  animated  as  the  wine  flowed  more 
freely,  and  toasts  were  drunk  and  bright  speeches 
made  in  response.  I  had,  as  in  duty  bound,  devoted 
most  of  my  attention  to  the  marchioness,  and  the  mar 
quis  had  engrossed  Pelagic.  Yet  there  had  been 
chance  for  an  occasional  word  with  her.  It  was  when 
the  marquis  was  rising  to  respond  to  a  toast  to  his 
Most  Catholic  Majesty  of  Spain,  amid  the  ringing  of 
glasses,  that  I  turned  to  mademoiselle. 

"  Would  it  be  permitted  an  old  friend  to  call  at  the 


A  MAGIC  COACH  261 

house  of  the  French  minister  on  the  Comtesse  de  Ba- 
loitT" 

"It  would  be  unpardonable  if  he  neglected  to  do 
so,"  she  responded,  with  a  bright  smile. 

"Then  to-morrow  at  two  I  hope  to  find  you  at 
home,"  I  said,  and  then  added  quickly — "unless  you 
are  going  to  the  Senate  again  ? ' ' 

She  colored  a  little. 

' '  Did  you  know  me  ? " 

But  she  would  not  let  me  answer  her  own  question, 
for  the  marquis  was  beginning  to  speak,  and  it  be 
hooved  us  to  listen.  In  the  midst  of  the  applause  that 
followed  his  speech,  I  saw  the  President  whisper  some 
thing  to  the  black  man  who  stood  behind  his  chair  and 
send  him  to  me.  For  a  moment,  when  the  messenger 
told  me  the  President  wished  to  see  me  in  his  office 
after  the  others  were  gone,  I  thought  I  was  to  be  called 
to  account  for  my  malapropos  speech,  but  I  was  re 
lieved  when  he  added : 

"The  President  hab  a  message  from  yo'  home, 
aah." 

And  had  it  not  been  that  I  liked  much  feeling  my 
self  so  near  mademoiselle,  even  if  I  had  only  an  occa 
sional  word  from  her,  I  would  have  been  very  impa 
tient  for  dinner  to  be  over,  for  a  message  from  home 
sent  to  the  President,  it  seemed  to  me,  must  be  of  im 
portance. 

Dinner  was  over  at  last,  and  there  was  but  little  lin 
gering  afterward.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  helping 
mademoiselle  into  her  coach,  though  Monsieur  Pichon 
looked  cold  and  the  Marquis  de  Yrujo  tried  to  fore- 


262  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

stall  me.  But  when  she  was  shut  up  inside  the  golden 
ball,  and  the  great  golden  wings  were  once  more 
perched  on  either  side  of  it,  and  it  rolled  away  glitter 
ing  and  flashing  in  the  light  of  the  torches  as  it  had 
flashed  and  glittered  in  the  rays  of  the  sun  five  hours 
before,  I  had  a  sinking  of  the  heart  such  as  I  might 
have  felt  had  she  been  snatched  away  from  my  sight 
forever  in  the  prophet's  fiery  chariot  bearing  her  to 
the  skies. 

Mr.  Meriwether  Lewis  was  waiting  to  conduct  me 
to  the  President's  office,  and  he  stayed  and  talked  with 
me  pleasantly  until  the  President  arrived;  laughing 
with  me  at  my  faux  pas,  but  telling  me  I  had  nothing 
to  fear  from  the  President's  displeasure,  as  he  was 
not  the  man  to  harbor  a  grudge  on  so  slight  a  matter, 
and  he  (though,  to  be  sure,  he  was  a  lifelong  friend) 
had  ever  found  him  to  be  kind,  considerate,  and 
genial. 

And  such  I  found  him  in  our  brief  interview.  He 
went  directly  to  the  point  with  me,  which  always  goes 
far  toward  winning  my  liking. 

"I  know  your  family,"  he  said,  "have  ever  been 
friends  of  Mr.  Hamilton,  and  so  not  particularly 
friendly  to  me  in  a  political  way ;  but  your  father  and 
I  have  been  associated  much  in  scientific  pursuits,  and 
we  have  ever  been  congenial  friends  in  our  love  of 
botanical  research.  He  has  sent  me  many  rare  plants 
and  seeds  to  Monticello,  and  now  he  shows  me  the  fur 
ther  courtesy  of  reposing  a  confidence  in  me,  and  I 
hope  you  will  express  to  him  my  appreciation,  which 
I  will  prove  by  reposing  a  like  confidence  in  you. 


A  MAGIC  COACH  263 

Your  father  writes  me  that  a  letter  has  just  been  re 
ceived  from  your  uncle,  Monsieur  Barbe  Marbois,  in 
viting  you  to  spend  some  time  with  him  in  Paris. 
He  says  that  both  he  and  your  mother  think  it 
much  to  be  desired  that  you  should  improve  this  op 
portunity  for  completing  your  education.  He  says, 
further,  that  a  ship  sails  from  New  York  early  next 
week,  and  requests  me,  if  you  should  be  in  Washing 
ton  when  I  receive  this  letter,  as  he  suspects,  that  I 
will  instruct  you  to  lose  no  time  in  reaching  home. 
Indeed,  so  urgent  is  he,  and  the  time  is  so  short,  I 
think,  without  doubt,  you  should  set  off  by  daybreak 
to-morrow  morning. 

"Now,  as  I  said  before,  I  am  going  also  to  repose  a 
confidence  in  you.  It  is  not  generally  known,  nor  do 
I  wish  it  known  for  the  present  (therefore  I  speak  in 
confidence) ,  that  I  have  decided  to  send  an  envoy  ex 
traordinaire  to  Paris  for  the  purpose  of  discussing 
with  the  French  government  the  possibility  of  pur 
chasing  New  Orleans.  I  communicated  this  to  the 
Senate  to-day  in  secret  session,  and  I  now  communi 
cate  it  to  you,  also  in  ' secret  session"'— with  a  genial 
smile. 

"I  have  asked  Mr.  Monroe  to  undertake  this  deli 
cate  mission,  and  he  has  to-day  consented,  and  is  here 
arranging  his  plans  and  discussing  with  me  and  with 
Mr.  Madison  the  points  involved.  He  will  not  be  able 
to  set  out  for  some  weeks,  but  we  hope  now  that  he 
can  sail  by  the  eighth  of  March,  reaching  Paris  some 
where  near  the  twelfth  of  April.  Mr.  Livingston 
naturally  knows  nothing  of  this,  and  the  favor  I  have 


264  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

to  ask  of  you  is  that,  immediately  upon  your  arrival 
in  Paris,  you  call  upon  him  and  deliver  to  him  a  note 
which  I  shall  give  you,  and  also  explain  fully  to  him 
all  that  I  have  said  to  you,  all  that  you  have  heard  at 
dinner  this  evening,  and  particularly  repeat  to  him  as 
much  as  you  can  hold  in  memory  of  the  debate  you 
listened  to  in  the  Senate  to-day." 

The  President  paused  for  a  moment,  and  then,  with 
a  smile  of  rare  sweetness,  he  added : 

"Is  the  ardent  young  friend  of  Hamilton  willing 
to  put  the  President  under  such  a  load  of  obliga 
tions?" 

For  a  moment  I  hardly  knew  what  response  to 
make.  Not  that  I  dreamed  of  denying  his  request :  I 
was  only  too  proud  and  happy  that  he  should  have 
made  it.  But  that  he  should  have  reposed  such  a  con 
fidence  in  me,  when  he  knew  me  scarcely  at  all,  seemed 
incomprehensible.  I  made  but  a  stammering  reply. 

"Your  Excellency,"  I  said,  "I  fear  I  have  given 
you  but  a  poor  idea  of  my  discretion,  but  since  you 
trust  me  in  spite  of  my  blunder,  I  am  rery  proud  to 
be  of  service  to  you." 

It  took  but  a  minute  for  the  President  to  give  me  his 
note  to  Mr.  Livingston,  and  a  few  further  instructions, 
and  then  he  bade  me  God-speed  with  a  warmth  and 
cordiality  I  had  never  expected  and  certainly  never 
deserved  at  his  hands. 

There  was  but  little  sleep  for  me  that  night.  As 
Fatima  clattered  into  the  stony  courtyard  of  my  inn, 
I  called  loudly  for  Bandy  Jim ;  and  when  the  poor  old 
man  came  stumbling  out  of  some  inner  retreat,  half 


A  MAGIC  COACH  265 

blinded  with  sleep,  I  begged  him  to  look  after  Fatima 
himself,  and  see  that  she  was  well  rubbed  down  and 
ready  for  an  early  morning  start,  and  that  I  was  called 
and  breakfast  ready  by  six. 

In  my  own  room  I  spent  not  much  time  in  packing 
my  saddle-bags,  but  it  took  me  a  good  half-hour  to 
write  a  brief  note  to  mademoiselle,  explaining  why  I 
was  compelled  to  cancel  my  engagement  with  her  for 
the  next  day,  and  bidding  her  good-by  in  such  fashion 
that,  without  seeming  presumptuous,  she  might  read 
between  the  li:  es  how  much  of  my  heart  I  had  put 
into  it. 

I  had  said  nothing  in  my  note  about  going  to  Paris. 
I  very  much  desired  to  keep  that  for  a  surprise  when 
I  might  some  day  meet  her  there.  And,  lest  she  should 
hear  it  from  others,  I  wrote  also  a  note  to  Meriwether 
Lewis,  asking  him  to  say  nothing  about  it  to  any  one, 
and  to  request  the  President  to  keep  my  secret  for  me. 

Then,  putting  a  bright  new  gold  piece  with  the  two 
notes  to  be  delivered  by  the  trusty  hands  of  Bandy 
Jim  in  the  morning,  I  lay  down  to  get  a  brief  sleep, 
if  possible— but,  sleeping  or  waking,  to  dream  of 
Paris  and  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

CHECK   TO   THE   ABBE! 
"When  Greeks  joined  Greeks,  then  was  the  tug  of  war." 

I  HAD  been  in  Paris  three  weeks,  ai  they  had  been 
weeks  of  unalloyed  delight.  The  li  and  gaiety  of 
the  brilliant  capital,  the  streets  lined  with  handsome 
houses  and  thronged  with  gay  equipages,  richly 
dressed  people,  soldiers  wearing  the  tricolored  cock 
ade,  students,  artists,  workmen,  blanchisseuses,  and 
nursery-maids  in  picturesque  costumes  tending  pret 
tily  dressed  children,  made  a  moving  panorama  I 
never  tired  of.  Even  the  great  palaces  and  the  won 
derful  works  of  art  scarcely  interested  ine  as  did  this 
shifting  kaleidoscopic  picture,  and  I  looked  back  at  life 
in  my  native  town  on  the  banks  of  the  Delaware  as 
belonging  to  another  world,  incomparably  tame  and 
dull  by  comparison. 

Every  morning  I  accompanied  my  uncle,  Monsieur 
Barbe  Marbois,  to  the  Treasury  office,  and  left  him  at 
the  door,  to  roam  around  the  streets  and  watch  the  life 
of  the  town.  I  was  at  home  again  in  time  for  midday 
dejeuner,  and  then  on  Fatima's  back  (for  I  had 
brought  Fatima  with  me;  no  persuasion  of  friends 
could  induce  me  to  leave  her  behind,  since  she  had 

266 


CHECK  TO  THE  ABBfi!  267 

twice  rescued  mademoiselle  and  so  become  my  most 
trusted  friend)— on  Fatima's  back  I  dashed  out  the 
Avenue  to  the  beautiful  Wood  of  Boulogne,  sometimes 
racing  with  the  young  bloods  to  whom  my  uncle  had 
introduced  me,  sometimes  checking  my  horse  to  a  gen 
tle  canter  beside  a  coachful  of  Faubourg  St.  Germain 
beauties,  exchanging  merry  compliments  with  the 
brilliant  and  witty  mothers  while  I  looked  at  the 
pretty  daughters,  who,  for  aught  I  knew,  were  as  stu 
pid  as  their  mothers  were  brilliant,  since  they  never 
opened  their  mouths.  And  so  back  to  my  aunt's  in 
time  to  make  a  careful  toilet  for  the  four-o'clock  din 
ner,  when  there  were  sure  to  be  guests,  more  or  less 
distinguished,  but  always  interesting. 

I  had  delivered  my  message  and  my  note  from  the 
President  to  Mr.  Livingston  on  the  day  of  my  arrival, 
and  it  seemed  to  me  that  it  did  not  please  him  over 
much  that  an  envoy  extraordinaire  should  be  sent  to 
attend  to  his  affairs;  but  he  said  nothing,  and  re 
ceived  me  most  graciously,  both  as  a  messenger 
from  the  President  and  because  I  was  the  son  of  his 
old  friend. 

Several  times  since  my  arrival  at  my  uncle's  house, 
both  Mr.  Livingston  and  his  son  the  colonel  had  been 
guests  there,  and  always  the  talk  had  turned  on  what 
most  interested  me,  the  purchase  of  New  Orleans  and 
the  Floridas.  At  one  of  these  dinners,  Monsieur  Tal 
leyrand,  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Relations,  was  also 
guest,  and  while  there  was  but  little  reference  to  Loui 
siana  at  table,  I  was,  with  no  intention  on  my  part,  a 
listener  later  to  a  most  interesting  conversation  be- 


268  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

tween  Monsieur  Talleyrand  and  Mr.  Livingston  that 
was  no  doubt  intended  to  be  strictly  private. 

Thinking  that  it  was  very  likely  the  three  gentlemen 
—the  Minister  of  Foreign  Relations,  my  uncle  the 
Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  and  the  United  States  min 
ister—might  have  matters  of  importance  to  discuss 
where  my  absence  would  be  more  desirable  than  my 
presence,  I  left  the  salon  immediately  after  dinner, 
and  went  out  into  the  garden,  taking  with  me  a  Phila 
delphia  paper  that  had  arrived  by  that  morning's  ex 
press  and  that  I  had  not  yet  seen.  I  took  my  paper 
into  the  little  summer-house  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
garden,  and  was  soon  engrossed  reading  the  debates 
in  Congress.  I  found  there  had  been  another  of  great 
interest  on  the  same  Louisiana  subject,  and  so  deeply 
immersed  was  I  in  my  paper  that  I  did  not  notice  that 
any  one  had  entered  the  garden  until  the  sound  of 
voices  quite  close  to  me  roused  me.  A  small  table  with 
several  garden-chairs  surrounding  it  stood  under  a 
spreading  horse-chestnut  tree,  and  there  we  often  took 
our  morning  coffee,  if  the  weather  was  fine,  or  smoked 
our  evening  cigars.  At  this  table  Monsieur  Talleyrand 
and  Mr.  Livingston  had  seated  themselves,  and  how 
long  they  had  been  talking  I  did  not  know,  so  absorbed 
was  I  in  my  paper,  when  Mr.  Livingston 's  voice,  a  lit 
tle  raised  above  its  usual  even  tenor,  roused  me. 

I  sprang  to  my  feet,  realizing  that  I  must  seem  like 
an  eavesdropper,  should  any  one  discover  me  there, 
even  though  I  had  not  heard  a  word.  Mr.  Livingston 
was  facing  the  door  of  the  summer-house,  and  as  he 
saw  me  he  nodded  pleasantly  to  me  to  come  forward. 


CHECK  TO  THE  ABBE!  269 

"Here,  Citizen  Minister,"  lie  said  to  Mr.  Talley 
rand,  ''is  a  young  man  whose  father  would  like  to 
train  him  for  the  profession  of  diplomacy.  Perhaps 
he  could  not  begin  his  apprenticeship  better  than  by 
being  present  at  our  interview,  and,  if  you  have  no 
objections,  I  will  ask  him  to  remain.  He  can  act  as 
secretary  and  take  notes  for  the  future  reference  of  us 
both,  if  you  like/ ' 

I  rather  thought  Mr.  Talleyrand  did  not  quite  like, 
though  he  assented  to  Mr.  Livingston's  proposal,  but 
with  such  cold  politeness  as  made  me  exceedingly  un 
comfortable,  and  I  would  have  been  very  glad  to  make 
my  escape  to  the  house.  But,  for  some  reason,  Mr. 
Livingston  seemed  to  especially  desire  me  to  remain, 
and  I  saw  no  help  for  it  but  to  sit  down  at  a  respectful 
distance,  take  my  memorandum-book  out  of  my  pocket, 
and  prepare,  ostensibly  at  least,  to  take  notes. 

I  was  much  concerned,  also,  at  what  Mr.  Livingston 
had  said  about  my  father  desiring  to  train  me  for 
diplomacy.  He  had  never  said  anything  to  me  about 
it,  and  I  determined  on  the  instant  I  would  never  be  a 
diplomat.  "The  life  of  a  soldier  for  me!"  I  said  to 
myself,  and  then  suddenly  realized  that  Mr.  Living 
ston  was  talking,  and  it  behooved  me  to  listen  care 
fully  if  I  was  to  play  the  secretary. 

Mr.  Livingston  was  saying : 

"Be  assured,  sir,  that  even  were  it  possible  that  the 
government  of  the  United  States  could  be  insensible 
to  the  sufferings  of  the  Western  people,  they  would 
find  it  as  easy  to  prevent  the  Mississippi  from  rolling 
its  waters  into  the  ocean  as  to  control  the  impulse  of 


270  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

the  people  to  do  themselves  justice.  Sir,  I  will  ven 
ture  to  say  that  were  a  fleet  to  shut  up  the  mouths  of 
the  Chesapeake,  the  Delaware,  and  the  Hudson,  it 
would  create  less  sensation  in  the  United  States  than 
the  denial  of  the  right  of  deposit  at  New  Orleans  has 
done." 

I  liked  the  ring  in  Mr.  Livingston's  voice,  and  his 
words  sounded  very  stirring  to  me;  but  I  could  not 
see  that  they  made  any  impression  on  the  impassive 
countenance  of  Monsieur  Talleyrand.  He  was  reclin 
ing  in  his  garden-chair,  and  I  could  see  that  as  Mr. 
Livingston  spoke  he  was  regarding  him  intently 
through  half-shut  eyes.  His  tones  were  of  the  sweet 
est  and  blandest  as  he  replied : 

"The  First  Consul,  Mr.  Livingston,  has  asked  me 
to  say  to  you  that  he  proposes  to  send  General  Berna- 
dotte  as  envoy  to  the  United  States  to  acquire  such  in 
formation  as  he  may  deem  necessary,  previous  to  his 
taking  any  measure  relative  to  the  situation  in  which 
the  acquisition  of  Louisiana  will  place  France  with 
respect  to  the  United  States.  I  hope,  moreover,  that 
this  measure  on  the  part  of  the  First  Consul  will  prove 
satisfactory  both  to  you  and  to  your  government. '  ' 

Now  I  cannot  but  think  that  Mr.  Talleyrand  is  too 
astute  a  man  to  have  thought  for  an  instant  that  this 
would  prove  satisfactory,  and  so,  I  have  no  doubt,  he 
was  quite  prepared  for  Mr.  Livingston's  indignant 
outburst : 

"Satisfactory,  sir!  If,  sir,  the  question  related  to 
the  forming  of  a  new  treaty,  I  should  find  no  objection 
to  this  measure.  On  the  contrary,  I  should  readily  ac- 


CHECK  TO  THE  ABBE!  271 

quiesce  in  it  as  that  which  would  be  best  calculated  to 
render  the  treaty  mutually  advantageous.  But,  sir, 
it  is  not  a  new  treaty  for  which  we  now  press,  but  the 
recognition  of  an  old  one,  by  which  the  United  States 
have  acquired  rights  that  no  change  in  the  circum 
stances  of  the  country  obliges  them  to  relinquish,  and 
which  they  never  will  relinquish  but  with  their  politi 
cal  existence ! ' ' 

It  was  hard  for  me  to  sit  still  under  such  ringing 
sentences.  I  wanted  to  clap  my  hands  and  cry 
"Bravo!"  For  a  moment  all  the  glories  of  Paris 
turned  dull  and  insipid ;  I  would  have  given  them  all 
to  be  in  Kentucky  on  Fatima's  back,  marching  down 
the  river  to  capture  New  Orleans. 

But  Mr.  Livingston  had  not  finished.  Mr.  Talley 
rand  made  a  slight  movement  as  if  to  speak,  but,  with 
uplifted  hand  to  prevent  him,  Mr.  Livingston  hurried 
on: 

"In  what  situation,  sir,  are  we  now  placed?  An 
armament  is  about  sailing  for  New  Orleans.  That 
port  has  been  shut  by  the  order  of  Spain.  The  French 
commandant  will  find  it  shut.  Will  he  think  himself 
authorized  to  open  it?  If  not,  it  must  remain  shut 
until  the  envoy  of  France  shall  have  arrived  in  Amer 
ica,  made  the  necessary  inquiries,  and  transmitted  the 
result  of  those  inquiries  to  the  First  Consul.  In  the 
meantime  all  the  produce  of  five  States  is  left  to  rot 
upon  their  hands.  There  is  only  one  season  in  which 
the  navigation  of  the  Mississippi  is  practicable.  This 
season  must  necessarily  pass  before  the  envoy  of 
France  can  arrive  and  make  his  report.  Is  it  sup- 


272  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

posable,  sir,  that  the  people  of  the  United  States  will 
tranquilly  await  the  progress  of  negotiations,  when 
the  ruin  of  themselves  and  their  families  will  be  at 
tendant  on  the  delay?  I  can  never  bring  myself  to 
believe  that  the  First  Consul  will,  by  deferring  for  a 
moment  the  recognition  of  a  right  that  admits  of  no 
discussion,  break  all  those  ties  which  bind  the  United 
States  to  France,  obliterate  the  sense  of  past  obliga 
tions,  change  every  political  relation  that  it  has  been, 
and  still  is,  the  earnest  wish  of  the  United  States  to 
preserve,  and  force  them  to  connect  their  interests 
with  a  rival  power !  And  this,  too,  for  an  object  of  no 
real  moment  in  itself.  Louisiana  is,  and  ever  must  be, 
from  physical  causes,  a  miserable  country  in  the  hands 
of  an  European  power.'* 

Mr.  Talleyrand 's  eyes  had  not  moved  from  Mr.  Liv 
ingston 's  face  during  this  long  speech,  but  at  his  last 
words  I  saw  a  sudden  spark  leap  into  them. 

* '  You  no  doubt  think,  sir, ' '  he  said  in  his  low,  even 
tones,  "that  Louisiana  would  be  a  much  better  coun 
try  in  the  hands  of  the  United  States.  Would  your 
government  like  to  buy  it  from  us  ? ' ' 

"You  know,  sir,  and  have  known  for  some  time,'r 
replied  Mr.  Livingston,  "that  we  are  ready  to  make  an 
offer  for  New  Orleans  and  the  Floridas  as  soon  as  you 
are  ready  to  listen  to  it. ' ' 

"But  would  you  not  rather  have  the  whole  of  Loui 
siana?  The  rest  of  it,  without  New  Orleans,  would  be 
of  little  value  to  us.  What  would  you  give  for  the 
whole  ?" 

Mr.  Livingston  looked  bewildered  for  an  instant ;  it 


CHECK  TO  THE  ABBtf!  273 

was  almost  more  than  he  could  take  in  at  once.  But 
after  a  moment 's  thought  he  replied  : 

"It  is  a  subject,  sir,  I  have  not  considered;  but  I 
suppose  we  shall  not  object  to  twenty  million  francs, 
provided  our  citizens  are  paid." 

"That  is  much  too  low  an  offer,  my  dear  sir,"  re 
sponded  Talleyrand,  "but  I  see  the  idea  is  new  to  you. 
I  would  be  glad  if  you  would  reflect  upon  it,  and  tell 
me  to-morrow  the  result  of  your  reflections. ' ' 

"Mr.  Monroe  will  be  in  town  in  a  day  or  two."  (My 
heart  gave  so  great  a  thump  when  Mr.  Livingston  said 
that,  I  feared  they  might  hear  it — for  would  not  the 
Comtesse  de  Baloit  be  with  him?)  "And  I  would  like 
to  delay  any  further  offer  until  I  shall  have  the  plea 
sure  of  introducing  him." 

Mr.  Talleyrand  shrugged  his  shoulders  slightly. 

1 1  As  you  will,  Monsieur ;  but  do  not  give  Mr.  Monroe 
reason  to  think  that  I  speak  with  authority.  The  idea 
struck  me  that  you  might  like  the  whole  of  the  colony 
quite  as  well  as  part  of  it. ' ' 

I  thought  this  would  have  put  an  end  to  the  conver 
sation;  but  I  soon  saw  that  Mr.  Livingston  had  an 
other  card  to  play,  and  that  he  evidently  did  not  be 
lieve  the  minister  was  speaking  entirely  on  his  own 
authority. 

' '  Monsieur  Talleyrand, ' '  he  said, ' 1 1  have  this  morn 
ing  received  a  notice  from  my  home  government  that 
Mr.  Ross's  resolution  authorizing  the  President  to 
seize  New  Orleans  was  lost  by  four  votes.  Another 
was  offered  by  Mr.  Breckinridge  of  Kentucky,  which 
was  unanimously  adopted.  Mr.  Breckinridge 's  reso- 

18 


274  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

lution  was  to  the  effect  that  the  President  of  the 
United  States  be  authorized  to  require  of  the  execu 
tives  of  the  several  States,  to  arm  and  equip,  and  hold 
in  readiness  to  march  at  a  moment's  notice,  eighty 
thousand  militia ;  that  money  be  appropriated  for  pay 
ing  and  subsisting  such  troops;  and  also  that  money 
be  appropriated  for  erecting  on  the  Western  border 
one  or  more  arsenals,  as  the  President  may  judge 
proper.  Monsieur  Talleyrand,  this  means  but  one 
thing:  that  the  United  States  is  ready  to  act  at  once 
if  France  does  not  recognize  our  right  of  deposit ;  and 
I  beg  you  will  use  your  influence  with  the  First  Con 
sul,  that  he  will  not  send  General  Bernadotte  until 
this  question  is  determined." 

Mr.  Talleyrand,  with  another  shrug  of  his  shoulders, 
seemed  to  disclaim  any  influence  with  the  First  Con 
sul,  though  he  said: 

"If  you  will  make  me  an  offer  for  the  whole  of 
Louisiana  that  I  can  convey  to  him,  I  have  no  doubt 
it  will  carry  great  weight. ' ' 

"  I  must  decline  to  do  so,  Monsieur,  as  I  am  expect 
ing  Mr.  Monroe  in  a  day  or  two. ' ' 

Suddenly  Mr.  Livingston  changed  his  tone.  It  was 
no  longer  one  of  mild  argument,  but  as  of  one  who 
called  another  to  account.  J  was  astonished  that  he 
rlared  so  address  the  powerfrl  Minister  of  Foreign  Re 
lations. 

"I  have  long  been  endeavoring  to  bring  you  to  some 
point,  Monsieur,  but,  unfortunately,  without  effect. 
I  wish  merely  to  have  the  negotiation  opened  by  any 
proposition  on  your  part.  It  was  with  that  view  I 


CHECK  TO  THE  ABBE!  275 

sent  you  a  note  a  few  days  ago,  to  which,  as  yet,  I 
have  received  no  answer. ' ' 

The  great  man  sounded  to  me  surprisingly  meek  as 
he  replied : 

"I  would  have  answered  your  note  earlier,  Mr. 
Livingston,  but  I  have  been  waiting,  hoping  I  could 
give  you  some  more  satisfactory  reply.  I  will  delay 
no  longer.  I  will  answer  it;  but  it  will  have  to  be 
evasively,  for  Louisiana  is  not  ours. ' ' 

I  caught  a  glimpse  of  Mr.  Livingston's  countenance ; 
a  more  sardonic  smile  I  have  never  seen— a  smile 
which  said  as  plainly  as  words,  "You  are  lying."  He 
spoke  with  frigid  courtesy  : 

"It  seems  strange  that  I  should  be  better  informed 
than  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Relations,"  he  said,  "but 
I  have  seen  the  treaty.  Moreover,  I  know  that  the 
Consul  has  appointed  officers  to  govern  the  colony,  and 
he  has  himself  told  me  that  General  Victor  was  to  take 
possession.  And,  what  seems  to  me  most  convincing 
proof— why  does  the  First  Consul  send  General  Ber- 
nadotte  to  the  United  States  to  treat  in  relation  to 
Louisiana,  if  Louisiana  does  not  belong  to  France?" 

I  thought  that  would  have  floored  even  Talleyrand ; 
but  not  at  all.  With  another  shrug  of  his  shoulders, 
and  putting  together  his  finger-tips  in  a  manner  that 
gave  him  a  most  indifferent  air,  he  only  persisted  in 
saying  that  they  had  it  in  contemplation,  but  had  not 
yet  secured  it.  I  wondered  what  Mr.  Livingston 
would  say  next,  but  I  need  not  have  feared  for  him. 
Quick  as  thought,  and  all  smiles  and  amiability,  he 
responded  to  the  minister : 


276  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"I  am  very  well  pleased  to  understand  this  from 
you,  Monsieur,  because,  if  so,  we  will  not  commit  our 
selves  with  you  by  taking  it  from  Spain,  to  whom,  by 
your  account,  it  still  belongs.  And  as  we  have  just 
cause  of  complaint  against  Spain,  if  Mr.  Monroe  con 
curs  in  my  opinion,  we  will  negotiate  no  further  on 
the  subject  with  you,  but  advise  our  government  to 
take  possession." 

For  the  first  time  Mr.  Talleyrand  seemed  moved. 
He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  spoke  quickly : 

"I  beg  you  will  take  no  such  measures  at  present, 
Mr.  Livingston.  I  will  answer  your  note,  though  I 
must  still  say,  as  I  have  said  before,  it  will  have  to  be 
evasively. ' ' 

Mr.  Livingston,  who  had  also  risen  to  his  feet,  bowed 
formally. 

*  *  I  shall  be  glad  to  receive  any  communication  from 
you,  Citizen  Minister,  but  we  are  not  disposed  to  trifle. 
The  times  are  critical,  and  though  I  do  not  know  what 
instructions  Mr.  Monroe  may  bring,  I  am  perfectly 
satisfied  they  will  require  a  precise  and  prompt  no 
tice.  I  am  very  fearful,  from  the  little  progress  I 
have  made,  my  government  will  consider  me  as  a  very 
indolent  negotiator." 

Mr.  Talleyrand  laughed,  a  high,  rasping  laugh,  but 
evidently  intended  to  be  of  great  good  humor. 

"I  will  give  you  a  certificate,  Mr.  Livingston,  and 
you  can  send  it  home  to  your  government,  that  you 
are  the  most  importunate  negotiator  I  have  ever  met 
with." 

Their  conference  seemed  to  be  ended;  they  turned 
and  walked  toward  the  house,  leaving  me  to  ponder 


CHECK  TO  THE  ABB&!  277 

with  wonder  and  amaze  at  what  I  had  listened  to, 
and  with  keen  admiration  for  the  part  Mr.  Living 
ston  had  taken  in  the  matter.  I  had  always  been  led  to 
believe  that  no  man  could  hold  his  own  against  the 
shrewd  and  unfathomable  Abbe ;  but,  if  I  mistook  not, 
this  time  Mr.  Livingston  had  not  only  held  his  own, 
but  got  much  the  better  of  him. 

Suddenly  a  thought  flashed  into  my  mind.  What 
did  Talleyrand  mean  by  repeating  over  and  over,  and 
in  such  significant  phrase,  that  his  answer  must  be 
"evasive' '?  Could  it  be  possible  that  he  was  inti 
mating  that  a  consideration  would  be  necessary  to 
make  it  more  decided  ?  I  believed  that  he  had  so  inti 
mated,  and  that  Mr.  Livingston  had  understood  him, 
and  had  repelled  the  intimation  with  scorn. 

Then  again  there  flashed  into  my  mind  the  two  mil 
lion  dollars  that  had  been  voted  the  President  to 
use  "as  he  thought  best"  in  adjusting  this  matter. 
Was  it  intended  to  use  in  buying  up  "such  crea 
tures,"  I  said  scornfully  to  myself,  "as  Talleyrand"? 
Vague  insinuations  in  those  speeches  in  Congress  I 
had  listened  to  now  seemed  to  me  as  clear  as  day. 

Hot  with  indignation  and  shame, — my  indigna 
tion  for  Talleyrand,  my  shame  that  my  country  could 
stoop  to  such  measures, — I  rushed  into  the  house  to 
my  uncle.  He  had  been  entertaining  Colonel  Living 
ston  while  the  other  two  were  holding  their  confer 
ence;  but  all  three  gentlemen  were  gone  now,  and  I 
found  him  sitting  quietly  in  his  library,  reading.  I 
had  flung  the  door  wide  as  I  entered,  and  I  stopped 
on  the  threshold. 

"Monsieur,  what  does  it  mean?"  I  cried.     "Does 


278  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Monsieur  Talleyrand  want  Mr.  Livingston  to  offer 
him  a  bribe?  And  were  the  two  millions  of  dollars 
given  to  Mr.  Jefferson  for  such  base  purposes?" 

My  uncle  looked  up,  startled  and  amazed  beyond 
measure.  He  did  not  at  all  take  in  my  meaning,  but 
he  was  very  sensible  of  my  rudeness.  My  uncle  was 
ever  the  most  amiable  of  men  and  the  most  tolerant, 
but  for  correctness  of  deportment  and  elegance  of 
manner  he  was  a  stickler,  and  so  flagrant  a  breach 
of  both  was  intolerable  to  him. 

"I  think  you  forget  yourself,  sir,"  he  said  coldly; 
and  that  was  all  he  said,  but  his  words  cut  like  tem 
pered  steel  in  quivering  flesh.  A  great  wave  of  morti 
fication  rushed  in  a  crimson  flood  to  the  very  roots  of 
my  hair. 

' '  I  am  most  truly  sorry,  sir,  to  have  been  so  rude, ' ' 
I  stammered,  "and  I  beg  you  will  not  think  that  we 
do  not  know  good  manners  in  America.  I  fear  I  am 
ever  slow  to  think  and  headlong  to  act,  and  it  has  often 
brought  me  to  grief.7' 

My  uncle,  who,  as  I  said,  was  all  amiability,  forgave 
me  at  once,  and  invited  me  most  cordially  to  enter 
his  library.  I  was  loath  to  intrude  after  my  great 
rudeness,  but  he  would  not  let  me  off. 

"Come  in,  come  in,"  he  said,  "and  I  will  answer 
your  question  by  another.  What  has  led  you  to  think 
that  Mr.  Talleyrand  desires  a  bribe  from  Mr.  Liv 
ingston  ?  Has  any  one  been  saying  so  to  you  1 ' ' 

Then  was  I  in  greater  confusion  than  before.  I 
did  not  know  whether  Mr.  Livingston  would  desire  me 
to  say  anything  about  the  interview  to  which  I  had 


CHECK  TO  THE  ABBtfl  ,      279 

been  accidentally  made  a  party,  and  I  had  intended 
to  say  nothing  to  any  one  until  I  had  had  a  chance  to 
find  out  his  wishes;  and  now,  in  my  indignation,  I 
had  entirely  forgot  my  resolution  and  betrayed  my 
self.  There  was  no  way  out  but  to  make  a  clean  breast 
of  my  part  in  it. 

So  I  told  my  uncle  how  I  had  been  caught  in  the 
summer-house,  and  been  invited  to  become  a  listener 
to  secrets  of  state.  My  uncle  threw  back  his  head  and 
laughed  long  and  loud.  But  when  he  had  calmed 
down  a  little,  he  looked  at  me  keenly. 

"So  you  think  Mr.  Talleyrand  wanted  a  bribe  from 
Mr.  Livingston  ?  Would  you  mind  telling  me  what  he 
said  that  led  you  to  think  so  1 ' ' 

Now  was  I  greatly  embarrassed,  for  I  had  fully  re 
solved  that  not  one  iota  of  information  of  which  I 
had  become  the  possessor  so  innocently  should  pass 
my  lips  without  Mr.  Livingston's  sanction.  My  uncle 
noticed  my  embarrassment,  and  spoke  quickly : 

"Never  mind,  my  boy.  It  is  no  doubt  just  as  well 
that  you  should  not  tell  me  what  you  feel  you  have  no 
right  to  repeat ;  but  it  would  make  no  real  difference. 
I  see  that  you  are  trustworthy,  and  I  do  not  mind  tell 
ing  you  that  the  First  Consul  is  of  somewhat  the  same 
opinion.  He  does  not  altogether  trust  the  Minister  of 
Foreign  Relations,  and  it  is  more  than  likely  the 
negotiations  will  be  taken  out  of  his  hands  and  put 
into  mine.  It  is  more  than  likely  also  that  it  was 
because  Mr.  Livingston  does  not  trust  him  that  he 
desired  to  have  you  present  as  a  witness.  Now  you 
see  how  I  trust  you.  These  are  matters  of  grave  im- 


280  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

port,  my  boy,  and  if  you  had  been  eager  to  tell  me  all 
you  had  heard  I  would  have  been  loath  indeed  to  con 
fide  in  you,  as  I  have  just  done. ' ' 

I  glowed  with  pleasure  at  my  uncle's  words,  and 
thanked  him  most  earnestly  for  his  confidence,  which 
I  told  him  was  not  misplaced.  And  then,  fearing  I 
was  intruding  too  long  upon  his  hours  of  privacy  (for 
they  were  few  indeed,  and  greatly  prized,  I  knew), 
I  bowed  myself  out  of  his  library,  and  dashed  for  a 
ride  on  Fatima  down  the  crowded  avenue.  For  it  was 
upon  Fatima 's  back  I  could  ever  think  best,  and  I 
had  much  to  think  over:  the  amazing  conversation 
I  had  listened  to;  my  uncle's  confidence  to  me;  and 
last  of  all,  and  which  set  my  pulses  throbbing  and  the 
blood  tingling  to  my  finger-tips— Mr.  Monroe  would 
be  in  Paris  in  a  day  or  two ! 


CHAPTER  XX 

BONAPARTE   GIVES  ENGLAND   A   RIVAL 
"Great  let  me  call  him,  for  he  conquered  me." 

THE  next  morning  was  Easter,  and,  dressed  in  a 
new  suit  of  puce-colored  ferrandine,  with  fresh 
ruffles  of  finest  lace,  and  a  new  plume  in  my  hat,  I 
walked  decorously  beside  my  aunt  through  the 
thronged  streets,  every  one  dressed  in  his  best  and 
every  one  going  the  same  way— to  the  Church  of  the 
Madeleine,  to  see  the  First  Consul  attend  service. 
The  sun  was  shining,  birds  were  singing,  the  air  was 
soft  and  warm  and  filled  with  the  mingled  perfume  of 
flowers  and  incense,  borne  out  through  the  open  doors 
of  all  the  churches. 

The  world  was  happy,  and  so  was  I.  I  was  greatly 
excited,  too,  for  I  was  to  behold,  for  the  first  time,  the 
man  who  held  in  his  hand  the  destinies  of  nations,  and 
before  whose  terrible  word  even  our  own  proud  repub 
lic  trembled. 

I  had  been  three  weeks  in  Paris  and  had  not  seen 
him.  It  seemed  to  be  my  ill  fortune  never  to  be  on  the 
streets  when  he  made  one  of  his  dashing  progresses 
through  them,  and  though  there  had  been  several 
levees  my  wardrobe  had  not  been  in  condition  to  at- 

281 


282  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

tend  them.  At  least,  so  my  aunt  thought.  I  think  I 
would  have  been  willing  to  don  once  more  the  old 
plum-colored  velvets  for  the  sake  of  seeing  the  great 
Bonaparte,  but  Madame  Marbois  thought  otherwise. 

"Nobody  is  such  a  stickler  for  forms  and  ceremo 
nies,  or  such  a  lover  of  magnificence,  as  the  First  Con 
sul,"  said  she,  "and  if  you  want  to  make  a  good  im 
pression  upon  him,  or  do  credit  to  your  family  at 
home  and  to  your  uncle  and  to  me,  you  must  wait 
for  your  new  costumes." 

So  she  had  me  to  the  tailor's,  and  more  suits  were 
ordered  than  I  thought  I  could  wear  in  a  lifetime. 
When  they  came  home  and  my  man  Caesar  (my  own 
colored  boy  whom  I  had  brought  with  me  from  home) 
had  laid  them  all  out  for  me  in  my  room,  I  thought 
them  well  worth  waiting  for.  There  were  suits  for 
church  and  suits  for  dinner,  suits  for  riding  and  for 
walking,  and,  most  resplendent  of  all,  two  court  cos 
tumes.  One  especially  of  white  satin  with  much  gold 
lace  and  bullion  quite  took  my  breath  away.  Now  I 
have  always  had  a  weakness  for  fine  clothes  that  I 
secretly  deprecated,  for  I  feared  it  was  a  womanish 
weakness  quite  unbefitting  a  soldier  of  fortune,  which 
was  the  career  I  had  laid  out  for  myself  and  was  quite 
determined  upon.  Yet  I  have  never  found  that  my  lik 
ing  for  fine  clothes  has  made  me  less  ready  to  draw  my 
sword  to  help  the  innocent  or  weak,  and  so  I  hope  it 
may  not  be  a  sign  in  me  of  any  lack  of  true  manliness. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  I  was  walking  joyously  beside  my 
aunt  that  beautiful  Easter  morning,  and  part  of  the 
joy  in  my  heart  was  for  the  beautiful  puce-colored 


BONAPARTE  GIVES  ENGLAND  A  RIVAL    283 

f errandine  that  sat  so  well  and  had  an  air  of  distinc 
tion  I  was  sure  no  other  clothes  of  mine  had  ever 
had,  for  these  were  made  in  Paris. 

I  have  no  very  distinct  recollection  of  the  services; 
indeed,  I  hardly  paid  enough  attention  to  them  to  fol 
low  them  decorously,  for  I  was  consumed  with  an 
eager  desire  for  but  one  event— the  entrance  of  the 
First  Consul. 

A  subdued  murmur  (almost,  it  seemed  to  me,  like 
suppressed  "Vive  le  rois")  announced  to  me  that  he 
was  just  entering  the  door,  and  as  I  sat  by  the  aisle 
down  which  he  was  coming,  and  far  to  the  front,  by 
turning  in  my  seat  and  stretching  my  neck  shame 
lessly  I  had  time  to  see  him  well. 

Could  this  little  fellow,  who  might  easily  have  stood 
under  my  arm  stretched  level  with  my  shoulder,  could 
he  be  the  hero  of  Marengo!  the  Dictator  of  France 
who  held  all  Europe  trembling  in  his  grasp !  I  think 
that  I  had  heretofore  had  an  unconscious  feeling 
that  greatness  of  stature  meant  greatness  of  heart 
and  mind  and  courage,  and  I  had  gloried  in  my  inches. 
Now  I  was  almost  ashamed  of  them,  for  this  little  man 
coming  rapidly  down  the  aisle  with  a  firm,  quick  step 
seemed  to  breathe  power  from  the  chiseled  curve  of  the 
nostril,  from  the  haughty  curl  of  the  beautiful  lips, 
but  most  of  all  from  the  imperial  flash  of  the  dark 
eyes  under  level  brows.  If  his  face  had  not  been  so 
full  of  power,  yes,  and  of  arrogance,  it  would  have 
been  almost  too  beautiful  for  a  man's  face,  framed  in 
silky  brown  hair  thinning  at  the  temples,  but  curling 
in  one  dark  lock  above  the  broad  white  brow. 


284  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

But  if  it  humbled  me  to  see  so  much  greatness  in 
such  small  stature,  it  comforted  me  not  a  little  to 
observe  that  the  great  man  was  no  despiser  of  dress. 
He  might  have  been  molded  into  his  small-clothes  and 
waistcoat  of  white  doeskin,  so  exactly  did  they  fit 
every  line  and  curve  of  his  perfect  figure.  His  dark- 
blue  military  coat  of  finest  cloth  was  set  off  by  heavy 
epaulets  of  gold  and  by  a  broad  azure  ribbon  crossing 
his  breast  and  bearing  the  jeweled  insignia  of  the 
Legion  of  Honor.  The  crimson  sword-sash  which  bore 
his  sword  sheathed  in  a  scabbard  of  gold  flashing 
with  jewels,  completed  in  his  own  dress  the  tricolor 
of  France.  He  wore  high  military  boots,  I  think  to 
carry  out  the  military  effect  of  his  epaulets  and 
sword,  for  it  was  in  the  character  of  soldier,  the  hero 
of  many  battles,  the  winner  of  glory  for  France,  that 
the  people  idolized  him. 

To  the  right  and  the  left,  his  eagle  glance  took  in 
the  whole  great  congregation,  and  as  he  passed  it  fell 
on  me.  His  glances  were  never  idle  ones;  I  knew  he 
had  seen  me,  and  my  pulses  quivered  and  fluttered  like 
a  young  maiden's.  From  that  moment  I  was  as  much 
his  slave  as  any  soldier  of  La  Vendee,  and  had  he  not 
himself  disillusioned  me  most  bitterly,  I  should  still 
have  been  regarding  him  as  the  hero  of  my  dreams, 
sans  peur  et  sans  reproche,  the  greatest  man  and 
greatest  soldier  of  all  time.  I  still  believe  the  latter 
title  belongs  to  him,  but  not  the  first,  for  a  great  man 
must  be  a  good  man  too,  like  our  Washington,  and 
that  Bonaparte  was  not. 

It  is  no  wonder,  then,  that  I  was  quite  beside  my- 


BONAPARTE  GIVES  ENGLAND  A  RIVAL    285 

self  with  excitement  when  at  dejeuner  my  uncle  said 
to  me: 

"  Would  you  like  to  ride  out  to  St.  Cloud  with  me 
this  afternoon?  The  First  Consul  has  summoned  me 
to  a  conference  with  him,  if  I  mistake  not,  on  the 
subject  you  heard  discussed  yesterday. " 

1 1  Oh,  thank  you,  sir.  And  shall  I  be  present  at 
the  conference?'1  I  spoke  quickly  and  foolishly,  for 
I  was  greatly  excited. 

My  uncle  laughed. 

"Well,  hardly,  my  Hoy,  unless  you  find  a  way,  as- 
you  did  yesterday,  of  compelling  the  First  Consul 
to  invite  you  to  be  present. ' ' 

I  liked  not  to  be  laughed  at,  but  I  knew  it  was  but 
my  uncle's  teasing  fashion,  and  all  the  way  out 
through  the  beautiful  Boulogne  woods,  the  birds 
singing,  the  sun  shining,  the  soft  spring  airs  blowing, 
the  alders  and  willows  pale  pink  and  yellow  in  the 
distance,  the  great  buds  of  the  horse-chestnuts  just 
bursting  into  leaf  and  everywhere  the  vivid  green  of 
the  fresh  turf ;  my  heart  beating  high  with  happy  ex 
citement  to  be  in  beautiful  Paris  and  on  my  way  to 
historic  St.  Cloud,  where  dwelt  the  most  wonderful 
man  of  the  world ;  and  Fatima  prancing  and  curveting 
under  me,  her  dainty  hoofs  scarce  touching  the  earth 
as  she  danced  along  the  green  allees  of  St.  Cloud's 
beautiful  park,  sharing  my  happy  excitement  (though 
only,  I  suppose,  for  a  horse's  natural  joy  in  trees  and 
grass  and  sunshine)— all  that  swift  and  beautiful 
ride,  galloping  beside  my  uncle's  coach,  his  words 
rang  in  my  ears,  and  I  longed  with  all  my  heart  to  be 


286  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

present  at  that  conference :  not  so  much  to  hear  what 
was  said  as  to  see  the  great  Bonaparte  saying  it. 

I  parted  from  my  uncle  at  one  of  the  great  foun 
tains,  he  riding  up  in  his  coach  to  the  palace  doors, 
and  Fatima  and  I  starting  off  on  an  exploring  tour 
around  the  park.  He  would  not  hear  to  my  waiting 
for  him,  for  he  said  he  might  be  detained  for  hours, 
and  indeed  it  was  possible  the  Consul  would  keep  him 
all  night  at  St.  Cloud,  as  sometimes  happened,  to  call 
upon  at  any  hour  of  the  night  when  some  new  sug 
gestion  occurred  to  him. 

Riding  fast,  as  was  my  custom  when  alone  with 
Fatima,  it  did  not  take  us  long  to  exhaust  the  beauties 
of  the  park,  and  my  eyes  began  to  turn  longingly  to 
ward  the  palace.  Somewhere  within  its  stately  walls 
I  supposed  the  conference  was  going  on.  Verily,  there 
were  some  compensations  in  diplomacy  when  it  gave 
a  man  like  my  uncle  a  chance  to  hold  close  converse 
with  a  man  like  the  First  Consul.  (And  in  that 
I  do  not  intend  to  speak  slightingly  of  my  Uncle 
Francois,  for  he  was  ever  in  my  regard  the  most  ad 
mirable  of  men.  Only,  it  seemed  to  me  then  that  to 
be  able  to  talk  familiarly  with  the  great  Bonaparte 
was  a  privilege  above  the  deserts  of  ordinary  mortals.) 

I  intended  to  remain  at  St.  Cloud  until  toward  even 
ing,  for  if  the  conference  should  prove  short  I  might 
still  have  the  pleasure  of  my  uncle's  company  on  the 
homeward  trip.  But  time  began  to  hang  heavily  on 
my  hands,  and  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  would  ask 
the  sentry,  whom  I  had  seen  from  a  distance  walking 
op  and  down  in  front  of  the  main  entrance,  whether 


BONAPARTE  GIVES  ENGLAND  A  RIVAL    287 

it  were  possible  to  gain  admission  to  the  palace.  I 
thought  it  probable  that  it  was  not  open  to  visitors, 
since  the  First  Consul  was  occupying  it,  but  it  would 
do  no  harm  to  find  out,  and  if  by  chance  I  should  be 
admitted,  I  would  at  least  have  the  pleasure  of  wan 
dering  through  the  rooms  where  he  dwelt. 

It  was  necessary  first  to  dispose  of  Fatima,  and  a 
thicket  of  evergreen  at  one  side  of  the  palace  caught 
my  eye  as  affording  a  grateful  shade  from  the  warm 
afternoon  sun  (which  so  early  in  the  season  could  be 
found  only  under  evergreens)  and  a  hiding-place  from 
any  prowling  thief  who  might  want  to  steal  her,  or 
frc.n  any  troublesome  guard  who  might  come  upon 
her  and  carry  her  off  to  the  Consul 's  stables. 

So  into  the  thicket  I  rode,  following  a  winding  path 
that  led  toward  the  upper  end  near  the  palace,  and 
at  the  very  upper  edge  I  found  just  what  I  wanted — 
a  clump  of  bushes  so  thick  set  that  they  formed  an  al 
most  impenetrable  screen.  They  were  lower  than  the 
other  evergreens— not  much  higher  than  my  horse's 
ears,  but  that  was  high  enough.  Into  the  midst  of 
this  clump  I  rode  Fatima  and  dismounted. 

11  Stand  here,  Sweetheart,"  I  said  softly,  "and 
budge  not  a  step  for  any  man  but  your  master. '  ' 

She  rubbed  her  nose  against  my  shoulder  in  token 
that  she  understood,  and  I  whispered  again  in  her 
ear: 

"Not  a  whinny,  not  a  sound,  my  Beauty,"  and  left 
her,  feeling  sure  no  man  could  steal  her  and  no  guard 
could  lead  her  away  by  guile  or  force,  nor  would  she 
betray  her  presence  there  by  any  noise. 


288  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

As  I  left  the  evergreens,  intending  to  go  around  to 
the  front  of  the  building  and  speak  to  the  sentry,  I 
saw,  coming  down  the  path  toward  me,  a  young  and 
pretty  woman,  who,  I  recognized  by  her  dress,  must 
be  in  service  at  the  palace. 

"I  will  inquire  from  her,"  I  said  to  myself 
promptly,  "for  she  will  know  as  well  as  the  sentry 
whether  there  is  any  admission,  and  she  will  no  doubt 
have  a  much  pleasanter  way  of  saying  either  yes  or 
no." 

So,  as  she  was  about  to  pass  me  with  a  little  curtsy 
and  a  pretty  smile,  I  stopped  her. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  and  doffed  my  hat,  "is  it 
permitted  to  see  the  palace  to-day?" 

"No,  Monsieur,"  she  answered,  "unless  one  is  in 
vited  or  has  business  of  importance  with  the  First 
Consul." 

Now  I  have  ever  had  great  faith  in  woman's  wit, 
and  especially  a  Frenchwoman's,  and  it  suddenly 
struck  me  if  this  one  should  prove  as  quick-witted  as 
most  of  her  kind,  she  would  know  how  to  secure  my 
admission  into  the  palace ;  and  if  she  should  prove  as 
kindly  disposed  as  I  believed  the  sight  of  gold  and 
a  pleasant  word  might  make  her,  then  was  my  success 
assured. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  and  my  manner  was  as 
deferential  as  it  might  have  been  to  her  mistress. 
"I  am  not  invited,  and  I  have  no  business  of  impor 
tance  with  the  First  Consul ;  but  I  am  from  Amer 
ica,  and  it  would  please  me  greatly  to  see  the  rooms 
where  the  famous  general  lives.  Cannot  Mademoi- 


BONAPARTE  GIVES  ENGLAND  A  RIVAL    289 

selle  think  of  a  way?"  and  I  slipped  into  her  hand  a 
louis  d'or. 

She  curtsied  again  and  smiled  again,  and  then  she 
answered : 

"It  is  difficult,  Monsieur,  but  I  have  a  friend  on 
guard  in  the  upper  corridor.  If  I  can  arrange  with 
him  to  let  us  pass,  I  can  show  Monsieur  the  grand 
salon,  the  little  salon,  and  the  state  dining-room. 
Would  that  please  Monsieur  1 ' ' 

"  Vastly, "  I  answered,  for  though  it  might  not 
be  seeing  all  I  would  like  to  see,  it  would  be  doing 
something  to  while  away  the  tedium  of  waiting,  and 
there  seemed  a  little  of  the  spice  of  adventure  about 
it  that  pleased  my  restless  spirit. 

"I  will  go  and  consult  Gaston,"  said  Mademoiselle 
Felice  (for  that,  she  told  me,  was  her  pretty  name,  and 
I  took  it  as  a  felicitous  omen),  "and  I  will  return  in 
five  minutes.  If  Monsieur  will  await  me  by  the  pines, 
he  will  not  have  to  wait  long." 

Yet  it  seemed  long.  I  am  sure  many  five  minutes 
had  passed,  and  I  had  begun  to  think  I  would  never 
see  again  either  my  gold  piece  or  my  pretty  Felice, 
when  she  came  tripping  up  in  an  entirely  different 
direction  from  the  one  in  which  she  had  left  me. 

She  had  had  trouble.  Gaston  had  scruples.  Sup 
pose  harm  were  intended  his  general  ?  Women  were 
easily  deceived.  Her  "American"  might  be  a  British 
assassin  in  disguise.  She  had  had  to  make  herself  re 
sponsible—she,  Felice!— for  my  innocence  and  honor. 
She  had  also  been  obliged  to  show  Gaston  the  piece 
of  gold  I  had  given  her  and  to  assure  him  there  would 


290  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

be  another  for  him  if  he  were  complaisant.  I  judged, 
also,  that  she  had  found  it  necessary  to  offer  him  a 
bribe  quite  as  tangible  as  the  gold  piece  but  less 
mercenary,  for  her  face  was  rosier  and  her  eyes 
brighter  and  her  hair  a  little  more  disheveled  than 
when  I  had  first  seen  her. 

And  now  began  a  real  adventure,  for  Felice  assured 
me  much  caution  would  be  necessary.  How  we  both 
slipped  out  of  the  pine  thicket,  she  some  distance 
ahead,  I  strolling  carelessly  behind,  how  by  almost 
insensible  little  signs  she  indicated  to  me  when  to 
advance  and  when  to  stay  my  steps;  how  she  finally 
guided  me  through  a  narrow  rear  entrance  and  by 
dark  corridors  and  winding  staircases  to  the  very 
corridor  Gaston  was  guarding;  and  how  I  slipped 
another  gold  piece  into  Gaston 's  hand  as  we  passed 
him,  would  be  too  long  in  the  telling. 

Gaston  was  doing  sentry  duty  before  two  doors  some 
twenty  paces  apart.  One  of  them  opened  into  a  dark 
side  corridor  (where  we  had  passed  him  and  I  had 
slipped  the  gold  into  his  hand ) ,  and  the  other  into  the 
head  of  the  main  corridor.  We  had  just  entered  the 
main  corridor,  and  Felice  was  leading  the  way  into 
the  grand  salon,  when  she  turned  quickly : 

"Go  back,  Monsieur,"  she  said  in  an  excited  whis 
per,  "here  comes  an  officer!'* 

I  had  caught  sight  of  him,  too,  and  I  was  the  more 
ready  to  turn  back  quickly,  because  in  my  hasty 
glimpse  the  officer  had  looked  to  me  very  much  like 
the  Chevalier  Le  Moyne.  I  thought  it  was  more  than 
likely  I  was  mistaken,  but  I  did  not  wish  to  run  any 


BONAPARTE  GIVES  ENGLAND  A  RIVAL    291 

possible  risk  of  being  seen  by  him,  and  I  hoped  that 
in  the  semi-obscurity  of  that  part  of  the  corridor 
he  had  either  not  seen  us  at  all  or  at  least  not  recog 
nized  us. 

We  fled  precipitately  back  through  the  dark  side 
corridor,  I  with  a  keen  feeling  of  elation  (for  a  sense 
of  risk  or  peril  of  any  kind  always  sends  my  spirits  to 
the  highest  point),  but  Felice,  I  believe,  beginning  to 
repent  of  her  bargain. 

1 1 Monsieur, "  she  whispered,  "we  will  go  back  the 
way  we  came—"  but  what  further  she  was  about  to 
say  I  know  not,  for  at  that  moment  a  door  opened  at 
the  farther  end  of  the  side  corridor.  It  was  a  door  we 
must  pass  in  finding  our  way  out,  and  through  it  now 
we  heard  much  loud  laughing  and  loud  talking  of 
men.  Evidently  a  party  at  cards  was  breaking  up, 
and  through  that  open  door  some  of  the  players  were 
about  to  pass.  Our  retreat  was  cut  off. 

Felice  clutched  her  hair  in  desperation. 

"Ah,  mon  Dieu!"  she  moaned,  "I  will  lose  my 
place !  I  will  lose  my  life ! ' ' 

I  had  hardly  time  to  think  of  my  own  plight,  I  was 
so  sorry  for  her  distress,  and  so  remorseful  to  think  I 
had  brought  her  into  such  straits  for  the  sake  of  a 
silly  adventure. 

But  an  idea  struck  Felice.  We  had  come  to  a  stand 
beside  Gaston  and  the  one  of  the  two  doors  he  was 
guarding  which  opened  into  the  side  corridor.  He  had 
himself  stopped  a  moment  in  his  pacing  to  and  fro, 
perplexed  by  our  dilemma. 

"Quick,   Gaston,"  Felice  whispered  eagerly,  "let 


292  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Monsieur  into  the  dressing-room  closet;  it  is  the  only 
place!" 

Gaston  seemed  to  demur,  but  Felice  overruled  him 
imperiously. 

"You  must,  Gaston!  And  be  quick!  Would  you, 
have  Monsieur  Fouche  throw  us  both  into  prison?  I 
will  be  back  for  him  in  a  few  minutes,  as  soon  as  all 
is  quiet. " 

Gaston  hesitated  no  longer.  He  threw  open  the 
door  before  which  we  were  standing,  and  together  they 
hurried  me  into  a  room  which  I  saw  at  once  was  a 
dressing-room  belonging  to  a  gentleman. 

"You  must  be  very  still,  Monsieur,"  whispered 
Felice;  then  she  opened  a  door  and  thrust  me  into  a 
dark  closet,  closing  the  door  noiselessly  behind  me  as 
she  whispered,  "I  will  return  in  a  few  minutes." 

I  was  but  as  wax  in  her  hands,  for  having  led  her 
into  such  distress  and  peril,  I  felt  that  I  must  submit 
to  any  means  that  would  save  her  from  disastrous  re 
sults.  Yet  I  liked  not  being  shut  up  in  a  dark  closet 
in  a  gentleman 's  dressing-room.  I  began,  too,  to  think 
of  my  own  peril,  and  for  a  full  minute  after  finding 
myself  in  my  hiding-place  my  knees  did  so  shake  be 
neath  me,  and  my  heart  did  so  pound  within  me,  I 
was  as  one  deaf  and  unconscious  to  all  surroundings. 

But  as  my  excitement  began  to  calm  itself  I  became 
aware  that  I  had  for  some  time  been  hearing  several 
voices :  one,  which  did  most  of  the  talking,  high,  rasp 
ing,  vehement,  passionate ;  the  other  two,  making  brief 
or  monosyllabic  replies,  low-toned  and  restrained.  I 
began  to  perceive,  too,  that  I  was  not  entirely  in  the 


BONAPARTE  GIVES  ENGLAND  A  RIVAL    293 

dark.  A  faint  light  was  coming  through  between 
slightly  parted  curtains  which  seemed  to  separate  my 
closet  from  some  other  apartment  than  the  dressing- 
room.  I  looked  through  this  aperture,  barely  wide 
enough  for  the  line  of  vision,  not  wide  enough  to  be 
tray  me  to  any  one  in  the  room  beyond,  especially 
since  I  was  in  the  dark  and  the  Easter  sun  was  flood 
ing  the  richly  furnished  apartment. 

Standing  in  an  attitude  of  respect  on  either  side  of 
a  low  marble  mantel  bearing  a  wonderful  golden 
clock  stood  two  gentlemen.  One  of  them  was  my 
uncle,  Monsieur  Marbois,  and  the  other,  whom  I  did 
not  know,  I  learned  later  was  Minister  Decr6s.  Ges 
ticulating  vehemently  and  speaking  with  great  excite 
ment,  through  the  center  of  the  room  back  and  forth 
strode  rapidly  the  First  Consul ! 

I  was  overwhelmed  at  the  sight.  By  what  trick  of 
fate  had  I  been  thrust  into  the  very  midst  of  this  con 
ference  at  which  I  had  so  longed  to  be  present?  My 
blood  rushed  through  my  veins  at  such  tumultuous 
pace  as  carried  my  reason  with  it.  No  thought  of  lis 
tening  to  what  was  not  intended  for  me  to  hear  en 
tered  my  mind,  only  a  great  joy  that  I  was  in  the 
midst  of  some  strange  adventure  such  as  I  had  read 
of  in  books,  where  wonderful  things  happen  to  the 
hero  who  hides  behind  an  arras.  And  no  more  won 
derful  thing  could  happen  to  me  than  to  be  seeing  and 
hearing  the  great  Bonaparte ! 

And  this  is  what  he  was  saying : 

"I  know  the  full  value  of  Louisiana,  and  I  have 
been  desirous  of  repairing  the  fault  of  the  French  ne- 


294  THE  ROSE  OP  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

gotiator  who  abandoned  it  in  1763.  A  few  lines  of  a 
treaty  have  restored  it  to  me,  and  I  have  scarcely  re 
covered  it  when  I  must  expect  to  lose  it.  But  if  it 
escapes  from  me,"  he  stopped  and  turned  suddenly 
to  the  two  ministers,  lifting  a  threatening  hand,  "it 
shall  one  day  cost  dearer  to  those  who  oblige  me  to 
strip  myself  of  it  than  to  those  to  whom  I  wish  to  de 
liver  it." 

I  thought  at  first  this  threat  was  uttered  against  the 
United  States,  and  so  terrible  did  he  look,  so  like  an 
avenging  fury,  that  I  shuddered  as  I  thought  of  my 
country  the  object  of  his  vindictive  wrath.  But  his 
next  words  enlightened  me.  He  resumed  his  rapid 
stride  and  went  on  speaking  with  the  same  excite 
ment: 

"The  English  have  successively  taken  from  France 
Canada,  Cape  Breton,  Newfoundland,  Nova  Scotia, 
and  India.  They  are  engaged  in  exciting  troubles  in 
San  Domingo.  They  shall  not  have  the  Mississippi, 
which  they  covet. 

' '  Louisiana  is  nothing  in  comparison  with  their  con 
quests  in  all  parts  of  the  globe,  and  yet  the  jealousy 
they  feel  at  the  restoration  of  this  colony  to  the  sover 
eignty  of  France  acquaints  me  with  their  wish  to  take 
possession  of  it.  and  it  is  thus  they  will  begin  the  war. 

"They  have  twenty  ships  of  war  in  the  Gulf  of  Mex 
ico  ;  they  sail  over  those  seas  as  sovereigns !  The  con 
quest  of  Louisiana  would  be  easy,  if  they  only  took  the 
trouble  to  make  a  descent  there.  I  have  not  a  moment 
to  lose  in  putting  it  out  of  their  reach !  I  know  not 
whether  they  are  not  already  there.  It  is  their  usual 


BONAPARTE  GIVES  ENGLAND  A  RIVAL    295 

course,  and  if  I  had  been  in  their  place,  I  would  not 
have  waited.  I  wish,  if  there  is  still  time,  to  take  away 
from  them  any  idea  that  they  may  have  of  ever  pos 
sessing  that  colony.'* 

Once  more  he  stopped  and  faced  the  two  ministers, 
and  gazed  at  them  steadily  for  a  moment,  first  one, 
then  the  other,  before  he  uttered  his  next  words.  I 
know  not  whether  he  paused  because  he  hesitated  to 
utter  them,  or  because  he  wished  to  make  them  more 
forcible.  Then  he  said  slowly  and  impressively,  with 
no  trace  of  the  excitement  that  had  characterized  his 
former  words : 

"I  think  of  ceding  it  to  the  United  States/' 

If  he  had  expected  to  create  a  sensation  he  was  not 
disappointed ;  the  irrepressible  start  of  each,  the  glow 
ing  eyes,  the  eager  desire  to  speak  expressed  in  both 
countenances  were  abundant  evidences  of  it,  and  I 
in  my  dark  closet  was  far  more  excited  than  either: 
for  here  was  more  than  my  wildest  dreams  to  be  real 
ized.  But  Bonaparte  had  not  finished  his  speech; 
with  a  gesture  restraining  them  from  giving  utterance 
to  the  words  that  were  hurrying  to  their  lips,  he 
went  on : 

"You  will  say  that  I  can  scarcely  cede  it  to  them, 
for  it  is  not  yet  in  our  possession.  If,  however,  I  leave 
the  least  time  to  our  enemies,  I  shall  transmit  only  an 
empty  title  to  those  republicans  whose  friendship  I 
seek.  They  ask  of  me  only  one  town  in  Louisiana ;  but 
I  already  consider  the  colony  as  entirely  lost,  and  it 
appears  to  me  that  in  the  hands  of  this  growing  power 
it  will  be  more  useful  to  the  policy  of  France,  and 


296  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

even  to  its  commerce,  than  if  I  should  attempt  to  keep 
it.  Citizen  Minister,"  looking  at  my  uncle,  "  what  is 
your  opinion  1 ' ' 

My  uncle,  who  had  been  all  eagerness  to  speak  at 
first,  seemed  to  hesitate  now  that  the  opportunity  was 
•given  him. 

"I  believe,  Citizen  First  Consul,'*  he  said  slowly, 
"that  we  should  not  hesitate  to  make  a  sacrifice  of  that 
which  is  about  slipping  away  from  us.  War  with 
England  is  inevitable.  Shall  we  be  able  with  inferior 
naval  forces  to  defend  Louisiana  against  that  power? 
At  the  time  of  the  discovery  of  Louisiana  the  neigh 
boring  provinces  were  as  feeble  as  herself.  They  are 
now  powerful  and  Louisiana  is  still  in  her  infancy. 
The  country  is  scarcely  at  all  inhabited ;  you  have  not 
fifty  soldiers  there.  Where  are  your  means  of  sending 
garrisons  thither?  Can  we  restore  fortifications  that 
are  in  ruins,  and  construct  a  long  chain  of  forts  upon 
a  frontier  of  four  hundred  leagues?  If  England  lets 
you  undertake  these  things,  it  is  because  they  will 
drain  your  resources,  and  she  will  feel  a  secret  joy  in 
seeing  you  exhaust  yourself  in  efforts  of  which  she 
alone  will  derive  the  profit.  You  will  send  out  a 
squadron ;  but  while  it  is  crossing  the  oceans,  the  col 
ony  will  fall,  and  the  squadron  will  in  its  turn  be  in 
great  danger.  Louisiana  is  open  to  the  English  from 
the  north  by  the  Great  Lakes,  and  if,  to  the  south,  they 
show  themselves  at  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi,  New 
Orleans  will  immediately  fall  into  their  hands.  This 
conquest  would  be  still  easier  to  the  Americans :  they 
can  reach  the  Mississippi  by  several  navigable  rivers, 


BONAPARTE  GIVES  ENGLAND  A  RIVAL    297 

and  to  be  masters  of  the  country  it  will  be  sufficient 
for  them  to  enter  it.  The  colony  has  existed  for  a  cen 
tury,  and,  in  spite  of  efforts  and  sacrifices  of  every 
kind,  the  last  account  of  its  population  and  resources 
attests  its  weakness.  If  it  becomes  a  French  colony 
and  acquires  increased  importance,  there  will  be  in 
its  very  prosperity  a  germ  of  independence  which 
will  not  be  long  in  developing  itself.  The  more  it 
flourishes  the  less  chance  shall  we  have  of  preserv 
ing  it. 

"The  French  have  attempted  to  form  colonies  in 
several  parts  of  the  continent  of  North  America.  Their 
efforts  have  everywhere  proved  abortive.  The  Eng 
lish  are  patient  and  laborious;  they  do  not  fear  the 
solitude  and  silence  of  newly  settled  countries.  The 
Frenchman,  lively  and  active,  requires  society;  he  is 
fond  of  conversing  with  neighbors.  He  willingly  en 
ters  on  the  experiment  of  cultivating  the  soil,  but  at  the 
first  disappointment  quits  the  spade  and  ax  for  the 
chase. " 

Bonaparte,  as  my  uncle  ceased  talking,  had  thrown 
himself  into  a  fauteuil  and  signed  to  the  others  to 
sit  down.  He  had  listened  with  keen  attention  to  my 
uncle's  long  speech,  but  now  he  interrupted  him 
abruptly  and  harshly. 

"How  does  it  happen  that  the  French,  who  are  in 
capable  of  succeeding  in  a  continental  colony,  have 
always  made  great  progress  in  the  West  Indies  f " 

" Because, "  replied  Monsieur  Marbois,  "the  slaves 
perform  all  the  labors.  The  whites,  who  would  soon 
be  exhausted  by  the  heat  of  the  climate,  have,  however, 


298  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

the  vigor  of  mind  necessary  to  direct  their  opera 
tions.  ' ' 

"By  whom  is  the  land  cultivated  in  Louisiana?" 
asked  the  First  Consul. 

"Slavery,"  answered  my  uncle,  "has  given  Loui 
siana  half  her  population.  An  inexcusable  imprudence 
was  committed  in  suddenly  granting  to  the  slaves  of 
San  Domingo  a  liberty  for  which  they  had  not  been 
prepared.  The  blacks  and  whites  both  have  been 
victims  of  this  great  fault." 

"I  am  undecided,"  said  Bonaparte,  "whether  it 
would  be  better  to  maintain  or  abolish  slavery  in 
Louisiana." 

"Of  all  the  scourges  that  have  afflicted  the  human 
race,"  responded  my  uncle,  "slavery  is  the  most  de 
testable!  But  even  humanity  requires  great  precau 
tions  in  the  application  of  the  remedy,  and  you  cannot 
apply  it  if  Louisiana  should  again  become  French. 
Governments  still  half  resist  emancipation:  they  toler 
ate  in  secret  what  they  ostensibly  condemn,  and  they 
themselves  are  embarrassed  by  their  false  position. 
The  general  sentiment  of  the  world  is  in  favor  of 
emancipation;  it  is  in  vain  that  the  colonists  and 
planters  wish  to  arrest  a  movement  which  public  opin 
ion  approves.  The  occupation  of  Louisiana— a  colony 
with  slaves— will  occasion  us  more  expense  than  it  will 
afford  us  profit." 

As  my  uncle  ceased  speaking,  Bonaparte  turned  to 
Minister  Decres  and  with  a  n.otion  of  his  hand  in 
dicated  that  he  was  ready  to  hear  his  opinion.  The 
minister  began  eagerly: 


BONAPARTE  GIVES  ENGLAND  A  RIVAL    299 

"We  are  still  at  peace  with  England/'  said  he; 
"the  colony  has  just  been  ceded  to  us;  it  depends  on 
the  First  Consul  to  preserve  it.  It  would  not  be  wise 
in  him  to  abandon,  for  fear  of  a  doubtful  danger,  the 
most  important  establishment  that  we  can  form  out  of 
France,  and  despoil  ourselves  of  it  for  no  other  reason 
than  the  possibility  of  a  war;  it  would  be  as  well,  if 
not  better,  that  it  should  be  taken  from  us  by  force 
of  arms. 

"You  will  not  acknowledge,  by  a  resignation  of 
Louisiana,  that  England  is  sovereign  mistress  of  the 
seas,  that  she  is  there  invulnerable,  and  that  no  one 
can  possess  colonies  except  at  her  good  pleasure !  It 
does  not  become  you  to  fear  the  kings  of  England !  If 
they  should  seize  Louisiana,  as  some  would  have  you 
fear,  Hanover  would  be  immediately  in  your  hands, 
as  a  certain  pledge  of  its  restoration.  France,  de 
prived  of  her  navy  and  her  colonies,  is  stripped  of  half 
her  splendor  and  of  a  great  part  of  her  strength. 
Louisiana  can  indemnify  us  for  all  our  losses.  There 
does  not  exist  on  the  globe  a  single  port,  a  single  city, 
susceptible  of  becoming  as  important  as  New  Orleans, 
and  the  neighborhood  of  the  American  States  already 
makes  it  one  of  the  most  commercial  in  the  world.  The 
Mississippi  does  not  reach  there  until  it  has  received 
twenty  other  rivers,  most  of  which  surpass  in  size  the 
finest  rivers  of  Europe. 

"The  navigation  to  the  Indies,  by  doubling  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope,  has  changed  the  course  of  Euro 
pean  trade  and  ruined  Venice  and  Genoa.  What  will 
be  its  direction  if,  at  the  Isthmus  of  Panama,  a  simple 


300  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

canal  should  be  opened  to  connect  the  one  ocean  with 
the  other?  The  revolution  which  navigation  will 
then  experience  will  be  still  more  considerable,  and 
the  circumnavigation  of  the  globe  will  become  easier 
than  the  long  voyages  that  are  now  made  in  going  to 
and  returning  from  India.  Louisiana  will  be  on  this 
new  route,  and  it  will  then  be  acknowledged  that  this 
possession  is  of  inestimable  value. 

''Finally,  France,  after  her  long  troubles,  requires 
such  a  colony  for  her  internal  pacification;  it  will  be 
for  our  country  what  a  century  ago  were  for  Eng 
land  the  settlements  which  the  emigrants  from  the 
three  kingdoms  have  raised  to  so  high  a  degree  of 
prosperity.  It  will  be  the  asylum  of  our  religious  and 
political  dissenters ;  it  will  cure  a  part  of  the  maladies 
which  the  Revolution  has  caused,  and  be  the  supreme 
conciliator  of  all  the  parties  into  which  we  are  di 
vided.  You  will  there  find  the  remedies  for  which 
you  search  with  so  much  solicitude !" 

I  thought  this  a  very  bold  speech,  and  it  was  uttered 
with  much  fire  and  enthusiasm.  I  could  not  be  sure 
how  the  Consul  took  it,  for  he  said  not  a  word  through 
it  all.  When  the  minister  had  finished  speaking  he 
dismissed  them  both  with  a  few  words,  but  telling 
them  he  should  expect  them  to  remain  all  night. 

As  the  door  closed  behind  the  two  ministers,  Bona 
parte  threw  himself  back  in  his  chair,  his  arms  folded 
across  his  Breast,  his  head  drooping  forward,  in  an 
attitude  of  deep  thought.  It  seemed  to  me  more  than 
likely  that  Minister  DecreVs  words  had  touched  his 
pride  and  his  patriotism,  and  he  was  hesitating  now  at 


BONAPARTE  GIVES  ENGLAND  A  RIVAL    301 

the  thought  of  getting  rid  of  France's  last  important 
colony. 

He  was  interrupted  in  his  reverie  by  an  officer  bring 
ing  in  the  despatches  from  London  which  had  just  ar 
rived,  and  he  sent  word  by  the  officer  to  have  Minister 
Marbois  sent  to  him  immediately. 

It  was  only  a  few  moments  until  the  return  of  my 
uncle,  but  in  the  interval  I  could  see  that  Bonaparte 
was  glancing  through  the  despatches  with  such  light 
ning  rapidity  that  to  me,  for  whom  all  reading  is  slow 
work,  it  seemed  impossible  he  should  have  grasped 
their  meaning.  As  Monsieur  Marbois  entered  the 
apartment  Bonaparte  greeted  him. 

" Citizen  Minister,"  he  said,  "the  despatches  from 
London  have  arrived.  Have  you  seen  them?" 

"I  was  just  reading  them,"  replied  my  uncle, 
' '  when  you  sent  for  me. ' ' 

"Did  you  see  that  England  is  preparing  for  war? 
That  both  naval  and  military  preparations  are  going 
forward  with  extraordinary  rapidity?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  minister,  "so  I  understand." 

"Perhaps  you  saw,  too,  that  in  the  American  Con 
gress  Mr.  Ross  proposed  that  the  President  should 
raise  fifty  thousand  troops  and  capture  New  Or 
leans?" 

"Yes,"  repeated  my  uncle,  "I  saw  it,  and  I  regret 
greatly  that  any  cause  of  difference  should  arise  be 
tween  our  countries." 

The  Consul  sprang  to  his  feet  and  resumed  his 
rapid  striding  up  and  down  the  room  without  uttering 
a  word  for  full  two  minutes,  but  with  a  deep  frown 


302  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

between  his  eyes,  as  I  could  see  whenever  he  faced 
me  in  his  hurried  pacing  to  and  fro. 

Suddenly  he  stopped  and  turned  to  my  uncle. 

"  Irresolution  and  deliberation  are  no  longer  in  sea 
son,  ' '  he  said  slowly,  and  then  added  with  sudden  fire : 

"I  renounce  Louisiana!  It  is  not  only  New  Or 
leans  I  will  cede,  it  is  the  whole  colony  without  reserva 
tion.  I  renounce  it  with  the  greatest  regret!  To  at 
tempt  obstinately  to  retain  it  would  be  the  greatest 
folly.  I  direct  you  to  negotiate  this  affair  with  the 
envoys  of  the  United  States.  Do  not  even  await  the 
arrival  of  Mr.  Monroe;  have  an  interview  to-morrow 
with  Mr.  Livingston.  But  I  require  a  great  deal  of 
money  for  this  war  with  England,  and  I  would  not 
like  to  commence  it  with  new  contributions.  I  will 
be  moderate,  in  consideration  of  the  necessity  in  which 
I  am  of  making  a  sale ;  but  keep  this  to  yourself.  I 
want  fifty  millions,  and  for  less  than  that  sum  I  will 
not  treat;  I  would  rather  make  a  desperate  attempt 
to  keep  these  fine  countries.  To-morrow  you  shall  have 
full  power. " 

I  think  my  uncle  was  somewhat  aghast  at  the  sud 
denness  of  the  decision  to  sell  the  whole  country, 
though  he  had  himself  advised  it,  and  still  more  at 
the  great  responsibility  thrust  upon  him  of  conduct 
ing  the  negotiations  in  place  of  the  Minister  of  For 
eign  Relations.  Perhaps,  too,  now  that  the  sale  was 
fully  determined  upon,  he  was  touched  with  regrets 
and  misgivings.  At  any  rate,  he  said,  somewhat  hesi 
tatingly  : 

"You  feel  sure,  Citizen  Consul,  that  we  have  a  right 


BONAPARTE  GIVES  ENGLAND  A  RIVAL    303 

to  cede  the  sovereignty  of  a  people  without  consulting 
the  people  themselves?  Have  we  a  right  to  abandon 
what  the  Germans  call  the  souls  f  Can  they  be  the 
subject  of  a  contract  of  sale  or  exchange?" 

Now  I  really  think  from  what  I  had  seen  of  Bona 
parte  's  reverie  while  the  minister  was  out  of  the  room, 
of  his  frowning  cogitations  in  that  rapid  walk  to  and 
fro,  and  of  the  solemnity  of  his  manner  when  he  finally 
announced  his  determination  to  sell,  that  he  had  been 
troubled  by  the  same  misgivings.  But  none  the  less 
did  his  lip  curl  satirically  as  he  listened  to  my  uncle, 
and  his  eyes  narrow  and  glow  with  a  malevolent  fire. 
He  hardly  waited  for  him  to  finish  till  he  burst  forth 
bitterly : 

"You  are  giving  me,  in  all  its  perfection,  the  ideol 
ogy  of  the  law  of  nature  and  nations !  But  I  require 
money  to  make  war  on  the  richest  nation  of  the  world. 
Send  your  maxims  to  the  London  market !  I  am  sure 
they  will  be  greatly  admired  there;  and  yet  no  great 
attention  is  paid  to  them  when  the  question  is  the  oc 
cupation  of  the  finest  regions  of  Asia  ! ' ' 

I  thought  my  uncle  would  have  wilted  under  such 
bitter  sarcasm,  for  never  have  I  seen  anything  more 
malevolent  than  Bonaparte's  whole  aspect,  and  I  trem 
bled  for  him.  But  he  seemed  not  greatly  afraid  of  the 
great  man's  bluster,  and  persisted  in  his  argument 
when  it  seemed  to  me  the  part  of  wisdom  would  have 
been  to  keep  silence. 

"But,  Citizen  Consul,"  he  urged,  "are  you  not 
afraid  by  ceding  such  great  possessions  to  America 
you  may  make  her  in  the  course  of  two  or  three  cen- 


304  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

turies  too  powerful  for  Europe— the  mistress  of  the 
world?" 

The  Consul's  lip  curled  again.  He  answered  in  a 
harsh  voice : 

"My  foresight  does  not  embrace  such  remote  fears. 
I  have  no  children ;  after  me  the  deluge !  Besides,  we 
may  hereafter  expect  rivalries  among  the  members  of 
the  Union.  The  confederations  that  are  called  per 
petual  only  last  till  one  of  the  contracting  parties  finds 
it  to  his  interest  to  break  them. ' ' 

The  minister  made  no  reply,  though  Bonaparte 
waited  a  moment  as  if  .expecting  one.  Then  he  went 
on: 

"Mr.  Monroe  is  on  the  point  of  arriving.  To  this 
minister,  going  a  thousand  leagues  from  his  constitu 
ents,  the  President  must  have  given  secret  instructions 
for  the  stipulation  of  the  payments  to  be  made,  more 
extensive  than  the  ostensible  authorization  of  Con 
gress.  Neither  this  minister  nor  his  colleague  is  pre 
pared  for  a  decision  which  goes  infinitely  beyond  any 
thing  they  are  about  to  ask  us.  Begin  by  making  the 
overture  without  any  subterfuge.  You  will  acquaint 
me,  day  by  day,  hour  by  hour,  of  your  progress.  The 
cabinet  of  London  is  informed  of  the  measures  adopted 
at  Washington,  But  it  can  have  no  suspicion  of  those 
I  am  now  taking.  Observe  the  greatest  secrecy,  and 
recommend  it  to  the  American  ministers:  they  have 
not  a  less  interest  than  yourself  in  conforming  to  this 
counsel.  You  will  correspond  with  Monsieur  de  Tal 
leyrand,  who  alone  knows  my  intentions.  Keep  him 
informed  of  the  progress  of  this  affair." 


BONAPARTE  GIVES  ENGLAND  A  RIVAL    305 

All  this  was  uttered  in  a  sharp  clipping  tone  of 
voice,  at  times  harsh  and  rasping,  that  carried  with  it 
an  inconceivable  effect  of  autocratic  power.  As  he 
finished  he  made  a  gesture  of  dismissal,  but  as  the  min 
ister  was  about  to  withdraw  he  called  him  back  again. 

"  Monsieur  Marbois,"  he  said  in  a  far  gentler  tone 
than  he  had  used  at  all  heretofore,  "  there  will  be  a 
treaty  drawn  up  between  you  and  the  American  min 
isters,  of  course,  and  I  would  like  to  write  one  article 
of  that  treaty.  If  you  will  sit  down  a  few  moments  I 
will  not  detain  you  long.  ' ' 

My  uncle  bowed  and  seated  himself,  and  with  marf 
velous  rapidity  Bonaparte's  pen  flew  over  the  sheet 
before  him.  In  scarcely  more  than  a  minute's  time 
he  looked  up  from  his  paper. 

"This  is  the  article,  Monsieur  Marbois,  that  I  wish 
you  to  make  it  your  business  to  see  embodied  some 
where  in  the  treaty."  And  then  he  read  slowly,  in  a 
firm,  clear  voice,  with  no  longer  any  rasping  tones: 

"The  inhabitants  of  the  ceded  territory  shall  be  in 
corporated  in  the  Union  of  the  United  States,  and  ad 
mitted  as  soon  as  possible,  according  to  the  principles 
of  the  Federal  Constitution,  to  the  enjoyment  of  all 
the  rights,  advantages,  and  immunities  of  citizens  of 
the  United  States.  And  in  the  meantime  they  shall  be 
maintained  and  protected  in  the  free  enjoyment  of 
their  liberty,  property,  and  the  religion  which  they 
profess. ' ' 

The  Consul  rose  to  his  feet  as  he  finished  reading 
and  extended  the  paper  toward  my  uncle. 

"Citizen  Minister,"  he  said  (and  I  almost  thought 

20 


306  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

there  was  a  ring  of  sadness  in  his  tone,  but  that  I 
could  not  believe  such  an  emotion  possible  to  the  im 
perious  conqueror),  "let  the  Louisianians  know  that 
we  separate  ourselves  from  them  with  regret ;  that  we 
stipulate  in  their  favor  everything  that  they  can  de 
sire  ;  and  let  them  hereafter,  happy  in  their  indepen 
dence,  recollect  that  they  have  been  Frenchmen,  and 
that  France,  in  ceding  them,  has  secured  for  them  ad 
vantages  which  they  could  not  have  obtained  from  a 
European  power,  however  paternal  it  might  have  been. 
Let  them  retain  for  us  sentiments  of  affection;  and 
may  their  common  origin,  descent,  language,  and  cus 
toms  perpetuate  the  friendship." 

He  finished  speaking,  and  turned  his  back  abruptly 
upon  my  uncle,  who  bowed  silently  and  withdrew.  I 
could  not  see  the  face  of  either,  but  I  believe  both  were 
too  deeply  moved  to  utter  another  word.  As  my  uncle 
left  the  room,  Bonaparte  threw  himself  once  more  into 
his  deep-armed  chair  in  the  same  attitude  of  reverie 
he  had  before  maintained  in  the  interval  of  the  minis 
ter's  absence— arms  folded,  chin  sunk  deep  on  his 
breast. 

It  seemed  to  me  a  long  time  that  he  sat  thus,  for  I 
was  growing  every  moment  more  anxious  for  my  own 
safe  escape  from  my  hiding-place.  Felice  had  prom 
ised  to  return  for  me  in  a  few  moments  if  the  way  was 
open,  and  I  was  sure  it  must  have  been  more  nearly 
hours  than  moments  that  I  had  been  watching  the 
foremost  man  of  all  the  world  decide  the  fate  of  a 
people  and  the  future  of  my  own  proud  nation.  I 
had  been  so  intensely  interested  that  I  had  not  noted 


BONAPARTE  GIVES  ENGLAND  A  RIVAL    307 

the  flight  of  time,  but  now  that  the  First  Consul  sat 
wrapped  in  thought,  I,  too,  began  to  think,  to  wonder, 
and  to  grow  every  moment  more  anxious.  What  had 
become  of  my  little  guide  ?  Had  she  forsaken  me  and 
left  me  to  my  fate  ?  And  should  she  come  for  me  now, 
would  I  be  able,  with  my  clumsy  movements,  to  escape 
unheard,  when  the  room  was  no  longer  ringing  with 
the  rasping  tones  of  Bonaparte  ? 

There  was  a  deep-drawn  sigh  from  the  chair  of  the 
First  Consul.  He  unfolded  his  arms,  flung  back  his 
head,  and  sprang  to  his  feet,  once  more  pacing  rapidly 
back  and  forth.  Suddenly  he  stopped,  lifted  one 
hand  as  if  calling  on  Heaven  to  witness,  and  ex 
claimed  aloud: 

' '  This  accession  of  territory  strengthens  forever  the 
power  of  the  United  States!  I  have  just  given  to 
England  a  maritime  rival  that  will  sooner  or  later 
humble  her  pride ! ' ' 

His  hand  dropped  upon  a  bell  which  he  rang  vio 
lently.  Instantly  there  was  a  little  sound  of  scratch 
ing  on  the  panel  of  a  door  leading  into  an  apartment 
beyond. 

"Enter!"  said  Bonaparte,  and  there  glided  silently 
into  the  room  Rustan,  the  famous  Mameluke  atten 
dant  of  whom  I  had  heard  much. 

"I  will  dress  for  dinner,  Rustan,"  said  the  First 
Consul;  "call  my  valet  and  tell  him  to  prepare  my 
bath." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

A  TEMPEST  IN  A  BATH-TUB 

"  The  mouse  that  always  trusts  to  one  poor  hole 
Can  never  be  a  mouse  of  any  soul." 

'1QREPARE  my  bath!"  Did  ever  such  simple 
JL  words  have  so  dire  a  sound  ?  Now  was  all  hope 
of  escape  cut  off ;  for  was  not  the  Consul 's  bath  in  the 
very  room  into  which  the  closet  where  I  was  hiding 
opened,  and  through  which  I  had  expected  to  make 
my  exit  as  I  had  made  my  entrance  ?  Now  did  I  curse 
the  folly  that  had  led  me  into  such  a  trap  for  the  sake 
of  a  mere  adventure. 

Whereas  a  moment  ago  I  had  been  congratulating 
myself  on  the  spirit  of  enterprise  and  daring  that  had 
led  me  to  be  the  witness  of  such  great  and  stirring 
events,  I  now  despised  it  all  as  a  silly  boyishness  which 
had  brought  me  into  what  seemed  like  to  prove  some 
thing  more  than  a  foolish  scrape.  Nor  could  I  help 
reflecting  that  whether  death  or  disgrace  (which 
seemed  to  me  far  worse  than  death)  awaited  me,  it 
would  not  affect  me  alone.  My  uncle's  reputation, 
and  honor  also,  might  easily  be  involved  in  his 
nephew's  downfall.  And,  most  intolerable  of  all,  what 
would  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit  think  when  she  should 

308 


A  TEMPEST  IN  A  BATH-TUB  309 

come  to  hear  (as  it  was  inevitable  that  she  would)  that 
I  had  been  caught  spying  like  any  common  eaves 
dropper?— found  hid  in  the  Consul's  private  closet, 
taken  and  done  to  death,  as  I  had  not  the  least  doubt 
in  the  world  I  should  be ! 

Yet  it  was  not  in  me  to  wait  idly  for  the  worst  to 
happen ;  I  began  at  once  to  plan  other  means  of  escape 
than  those  I  had  been  relying  upon.  If  I  could  not 
make  my  exit  through  the  dressing-room,  why  not 
through  the  other  apartment,  from  which  my  closet 
was  separated  only  by  a  curtain  ? 

As  far  as  I  could  judge,  the  apartment  had  three 
entrance-doors.  One  which  was  not  within  my  range 
of  vision  was  the  one  by  which  the  ministers  had  with 
drawn  and  through  which  my  uncle  had  returned. 
This,  no  doubt,  was  the  main  entrance,  and  led  into 
some  public  corridor,  where  detection  by  passers-by 
would  be  certain,  to  say  nothing  of  the  fact  that  the 
door  was  no  doubt  strongly  guarded,  and  by  a  soldier 
who  would  not  be  so  complacent  as  Gaston  had  been 
(having  neither  handled  my  gold  nor  tasted  a  maid 
en  's  kisses  as  reward  for  his  complacency) . 

The  second  door  led  into  the  dressing-room,  where 
even  now  I  could  hear  the  splashing  of  water  and  the 
vigorous  preparations  of  the  valet  for  the  Consul's 
bath.  That,  of  course,  was  not  to  be  considered.  The 
third  one  was  the  one  through  which  I  had  seen  Rus- 
tan  glide;  and  at  the  thought  of  entering  that  room, 
and  falling  into  the  tender  mercies  of  the  mysterious 
Mameluke,  I  shuddered.  A  stealthy  stiletto  with  poi 
soned  point  I  had  no  doubt  would  make  short  work 


310  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

with  me.  And  even  could  it  be  possible  to  seize  a  mo 
ment  when  Rustan  was  out  of  the  room  in  attendance 
on  his  master,  it  was  more  than  likely  the  room  would 
prove  a  cul-de-sac  and  I  would  be  more  securely 
trapped  than  ever. 

In  the  midst  of  these  perplexing  meditations  I 
heard  a  heavy  splash,  followed  by  a  vigorous  sputter 
ing,  that  assured  me  the  First  Consul  was  already  in 
his  bath.  A  moment  later  I  heard  a  scratching  at  the 
door  through  which  my  uncle  had  departed.  ( 'T  is  the 
fashion,  I  have  heard,  at  the  Tuileries  and  St.  Cloud, 
to  scratch  instead  of  knock.)  Rustan  answered  it  im 
mediately,  and  led  the  gentleman  who  entered  di 
rectly  through  the  outer  apartment  to  the  dressing- 
room.  This  seemed  a  novel  procedure  to  me,  but  I  re 
membered  that  the  French  often  received  callers  at  the 
toilet,  and  perhaps  it  was  nothing  unusual  for  the 
First  Consul  to  receive  his  friends  in  the  bath. 

I  could  hear  all  that  went  on  in  the  dressing-room ; 
even  the  slightest  sound  was  as  audible  in  my  closet  as 
if  no  door  intervened.  I  was  surprised  at  this  until  I 
discovered  that  just  higher  than  my  head  a  small 
panel,  not  more  than  three  inches  square,  had  been  re 
moved  from  the  door  of  the  closet,  admitting  a  little 
light  and  a  little  air.  It  was  through  this  opening  that 
sounds  were  conveyed,  and  it  was  through  it  that  I 
heard  the  Consul's  voice  a  moment  after  the  visitor 
was  conducted  through  the  outer  apartment. 

"Ah,  my  dear  Lucien !  Where  were  you  last  night, 
and  where  was  my  brother  Joseph?  Did  you  not  in 
tend  to  join  me^at  the  Theatre  Francois?  I  expected 


A  TEMPEST  IN  A  BATH-TUB  311 

you,  and  Talma  showed  great  power  in  'Hamlet.'  I 
was  surprised  and  disappointed  not  to  see  you  both 
there." 

I  do  not  remember  what  answer  his  brother  made, 
but  Bonaparte  replied  with  the  greatest  good  humor: 

"You  might  have  seen,  too,  that  the  Parisians  al 
ways  like  to  see  me.  In  fact,  I  scarcely  flattered  my 
self  they  would  ever  become  so  sympathetic  when  I 
had  to  shoot  them  down  that  October  day  in  1795." 

I  could  scarcely  believe  it  was  the  First  Consul 
speaking,  so  unlike  were  his  tones  to  any  I  had  heard 
from  him  before,— playful,  affectionate,  almost  ten 
der,— and  I  said  to  myself,  "Ah,  this  despot  has  a 
heart!  He  loves  his  broth er." 

I  did  not  hear  anything  more  that  was  said  for  a 
while,  for  I  was  revolving  in  my  mind  all  possible 
modes  of  escape.  I  had  just  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  only  safe  way  was  to  remain  quietly  where 
I  was  until  Bonaparte  should  have  finished  his  bath 
and  left  his  dressing-room  (which  I  felt  sure  could 
not  be  long,  since  he  had  already  been  in  the  water 
for  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour),  when  I  heard 
again  that  peculiar  little  scratching  sound  on  the 
dressing-room  door,  and  Rustan  entered,  announcing 
to  the  Consul  his  brother  Joseph. 

"Let  him  come  in,"  said  the  Consul;  "I  shall  stay 
in  the  bath  a  quarter  of  an  hour  longer. ' ' 

Black  despair  seized  me.  A  quarter  of  an  hour 
seemed  to  me  interminable  when  I  knew  not  at  what 
moment  the  valet  would  fling  open  the  closet  door  in 
his  search  for  some  article  of  dress,  and  discover  me. 


312  THE   ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

There  was  nothing  to  do,  however,  but  to  make  the 
best  of  it,  hoping  against  hope  that  the  great  Bona 
parte,  who  seemed  inordinately  fond  of  his  bath, 
would  some  time  be  through  with  it  and  leave  his 
dressing-room  free  for  me  to  traverse  it  in  safety. 
For  I  had  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  wait  no 
longer  for  Felice;  the  first  minute  that  I  could  be 
quite  sure  that  the  dressing-room  was  vacant,  I  would 
open  my  closet  door  and  escape,  trusting  to  find  Gas- 
ton  still  on  guard  at  the  outer  dressing-room  door. 

It  occurred  to  me  that  if  I  were  only  a  little  taller, 
and  could  look  through  that  open  panel  just  above  my 
head,  it  would  be  well,  for  then  I  could  assure  myself 
that  the  room  was  empty  before  attempting  my  es 
cape,  and  not  stumble  upon  some  lurking  valet  or 
Mameluke.  Then  I  remembered  what  I  had  noticed 
on  entering  the  closet,  but  had  not  thought  of  since, 
a  low  three-legged  taboret,  not  more  than  five  inches 
high,  but  quite  high  enough,  were  I  once  upon  it,  to 
enable  me  to  look  through  the  open  panel.  I  stooped 
carefully  down  and  felt  around  the  floor  of  the  closet 
in  the  dark.  My  hand  struck  against  it.  I  picked  it 
up  and  set  it  noiselessly  directly  under  the  small  open 
ing,  and  slowly  and  carefully,  and  absolutely  without 
making  a  sound,  I  mounted  upon  it. 

Just  below  me  was  the  most  remarkable  group  I  had 
ever  looked  upon,  or,  I  have  no  doubt,  ever  shall  look 
upon.  Respectfully  standing  near  the  bath  were  the 
two  brothers  Lucien  and  Joseph,  and  it  was  easy  for 
me  to  decide  at  a  glance  which  was  Joseph  and  which 
Lucien,  for  I  had  heard  much  of  both  and  knew  their 


A  TEMPEST  IN  A  BATH-TUB  31S 

characteristics,  though  I  knew  not  their  faces.  Jo- 
'ph  was  the  handsomer  of  the  two,  and  looked  more 
hke  his  august  brother,  with  the  same  fiery  eye  and 
mobile  mouth,  showing  the  same  excitable  tempera 
ment.  Lucien  had  the  calmer  face  that  belongs  to  a 
scholar,  though  in  some  respects  I  thought  it  a 
stronger  one  than  his  brother  Joseph's.  In  the  marble 
bath  lay  Bonaparte,  only  his  head  and  a  little  of  his 
shoulders  visible,  for  the  water  was  frothy  and  opaque 
from  quantities  of  cologne,  whose  sweet,  pungent  odor 
rose  to  my  nostrils  refreshingly.  Bonaparte  was  in 
the  act  of  speaking  to  Joseph  : 

"Well,  brother,  have  you  spoken  to  Lucien ?" 
"What  about?"  said  Joseph. 
' '  Of  our  plan  as  to  Louisiana— don 't  you  know  ? ' ' 
"Of  your  plan,  you  mean,  my  dear  brother;  you 
cannot  have  forgotten  that— far  from  being  mine- 
Bonaparte    interrupted    him    with     good-natured 
scorn. 

"Well,  well,  preacher,  I  don't  need  to  discuss  that 
with  you;  you  are  so  obstinate.  I  like  better  to  talk 
about  serious  things  with  Lucien;  for,  although  he 
sometimes  takes  it  into  his  head  to  go  against  me,  he 
knows  how  to  give  up  to  my  idea  when  I  think  fit  to 
change  his." 

Joseph's  color  rose  quickly,  and  he  spoke  with  some 
spirit : 

"You  are  unjust  enough  to  attribute  to  obstinacy 
what  is  the  effect  of  wise  reflection. ' ' 

Lucien  was  evidently  afraid  of  an  outbreak,  and  he 
interposed  quickly  and  laughingly : 


314  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"Then  that  means,  brother  Joseph,  that  I  hold  my 
ideas  so  lightly  I  can  easily  be  reasoned  out  of  them. 

"Ah,  my  dear  boy,"  said  Bonaparte,  with  affection 
ate  raillery,  "fear  not  that  any  one  will  accuse  thee 
of  lightness.  Thou  art  more  likely  to  be  named  '  Iron- 
head.'  " 

For  a  few  minutes  the  two  brothers  playfully  called 
each  other  nicknames,  going  back  to  the  days  of  their 
boyhood  in  Corsica,  while  Joseph  stood  by,  looking 
bored  and  every  moment  growing  more  impatient. 
Finally  he  broke  in  quite  brusquely : 

"Well,  you  say  nothing  more  about  your  famous 
plan!" 

Bonaparte  turned  at  once  to  Lucien. 

"Well,  Lucien,  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  sell 
Louisiana  to  the  Americans. ' ' 

"Indeed!"  said  Lucien,  in  a  tone  of  curiosity,  but 
with  so  much  coolness  I  suspected  he  was  not  hearing 
the  announcement  for  the  first  time. 

Bonaparte  turned  to  Joseph  with  an  air  of  triumph. 

"Well,  Joseph,  you  see  Lucien  does  not  utter  loud 
•cries  about  this  thing.  Yet  he  almost  has  a  right  to, 
seeing  that  Louisiana  is,  so  to  speak,  his  own  con 
quest." 

I  knew  what  the  Consul  meant  by  that,  for  it  was 
Lucien  who  had  negotiated  the  San  Ildefonsp  treaty 
which  gave  Louisiana  to  France.  This  speech  of  his 
brother's  seemed  to  irritate  Joseph  still  more,  and  he 
replied  quite  sharply: 

"I  assure  you,  if  Lucien  says  nothing,  he  thinks 
none  the  less." 

"Indeed!"  said  Bonaparte,  his  eyes  beginning  to 


A  TEMPEST  IN  A  BATH-TUB  315 

flash  and  his  lip  to  curl.  "And  why  should  he  be 
diplomatic  with  me?" 

It  was  evident  that  Lucien  thought  it  time  to  come 
forward  to  support  Joseph,  but  that  he  also  wished 
to  placate  the  rising  wrath  of  the  Consul.  So  he  spoke 
very  gently: 

"I  really  think  as  my  brother  Joseph  does  on  this 
matter,  and  I  undertake  to  say  that  the  Chambers 
will  never  assent." 

Bonaparte 's  head  shot  up  above  the  rim  of  the  bath 
tub,  and  he  leveled  a  fiery  glance  at  Lucien. 

"You  undertake  to  say!  A  pretty  piece  of  busi 
ness!"  with  an  air  and  tone  of  withering  contempt. 

"Yes;  and  7  undertake  to  say,"  cried  Joseph,  in  a 
tone  of  triumph,  "that  it  will  be  so.  And  that  is  what 
I  told  the  First  Consul  before." 

"And  what  did  I  say?"  said  the  Consul,  his  tone 
rising  with  his  wrath,  and  with  his  head  still  above 
the  rim  of  the  bath-tub,  looking  by  turns  quickly  from 
one  brother  to  the  other,  as  if  not  to  lose  any  change 
in  the  countenance  of  either. 

"You  declared,"  said  Joseph,  his  voice  also  rising, 
"you  would  get  along  without  the  assent  of  the 
Chambers;  did  you  not?" 

"Exactly,"  said  Bonaparte,  concentrated  irony  in 
his  tone.  "That  is  what  I  took  the  liberty  to  say  to 
Monsieur  Joseph,  and  what  I  repeat  here  to  Citizen 
Lucien,  begging  him  to  give  me  his  opinion  about  it, 
derived  from  his  paternal  tenderness  for  that  mighty 
diplomatic  conquest  of  his,  the  treaty  of  San  Hde- 
fonso." 

Now  I  thought  this  a  very  unkind  thrust  at  Lucien, 


316  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

for  I  had  heard  his  part  in  the  treaty  had  been  most 
creditable  and  that  the  First  Consul  had  been  much 
pleased  with  it.  I  could  see  that  Lucien  found  it  hard 
to  brook,  but  he  struggled  for  mastery  with  himself, 
and  spoke  still  gently: 

"My  brother,  my  devotion  is  deep  enough  to  sacri 
fice  everything  for  you,  except  my  duty.  If  I  believed, 
for  example,  this  sale  of  Louisiana  would  be  fatal  to 
me  alone,  I  would  consent  to  it  to  prove  to  you  my  de 
votion.  But  it  is  too  unconstitutional." 

Bonaparte  broke  into  his  sentence  with  a  fit  of  rasp 
ing,  sarcastic  laughter,  sinking  back  into  the  bath 
tub  almost  in  a  convulsion  of  demoniacal  mirth. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!  You  are  drawing  it  fine.  'For  ex 
ample  ' !"  His  words  struggled  out  in  the  intervals  of 
his  spasms  of  laughter.  "Ha,  ha,  ha!  'For  exam 
ple'!  "—catching  his  breath.  "  'Unconstitutional'! 
That  's  droll  from  you ;  a  good  joke— ha,  ha  !"  As  his 
laughter  ceased  an  expression  of  ironical  and  con 
temptuous  rage  passed  over  his  face. 

"How  have  I  touched  your  constitution?"  he  cried. 
"Answer!" 

"I  know  well,"  said  Lucien,  still  trying  to  control 
himself,  "you  have  not  done  so;  but  you  know  well 
that  to  alienate  any  possession  of  the  republic  without 
the  consent  of  the  Chambers  is  unconstitutional." 

That  last  word  seemed  to  drive  the  Consul  beside 
himself.  Once  more  his  head  shot  above  the  top  of  the 
bath-tub,  and  with  blazing  eyes  he  shook  his  fist  at 
Lucien. 

' '  Clear  out ! "  he  shouted.     ' '  '  Constitution ' !    ' Un- 


A   TEMPEST   IN  A  BATH-TUB  317 

constitutional' !  'Republic'!  Great  words— fine 
phrases!  Do  you  think  you  are  still  at  the  Club  of 
St.  Maximin?  We  are  past  that,  you  had  better 
believe!  Parbleu !  You  phrase  it  nobly.  'Uncon 
stitutional  ' !  It  becomes  you  well,  Sir  Knight  of  the 
Constitution,  to  talk  that  way  to  me.  You  had  n  't 
the  same  respect  for  the  Chambers  on  the  eighteenth 
Brumaire." 

Lucien,  roused  at  last,  broke  in,  in  a  tone  as  high  as 
Bonaparte 's : 

"You  well  know,  my  dear  brother,  that  your  entry 
into  the  Five  Hundred  had  no  warmer  opponent  than 
I.  No !  I  was  not  your  accomplice,  but  the  repairer  of 
the  evil  which  you  had  done  to  yourself !— and  that 
at  my  own  peril,  and  with  some  generosity  on  my 
part,  because  we  did  not  then  agree.  Not  to  boast, 
I  may  add  that  no  one  in  Europe,  more  than  I,  has  dis 
approved  the  sacrilege  against  the  national  represen 
tation." 

Bonaparte's  eyes  blazed  like  diamonds. 

" Go  on— go  on ! "  he  thundered.  ' ' That  's  quite  too 
fine  a  thing  to  cut  short,  Sir  Orator  of  the  Clubs! 
But  at  the  same  time  take  note  of  this :  that  I  shall  do 
just  as  I  please;  that  I  detest,  without  fearing,  your 
friends  the  Jacobins !— not  one  of  whom  shall  remain 
in  France  if,  as  I  hope,  things  continue  to  remain  in 
my  hands;  and  that,  in  fine,  I  snap  my  fingers  at 
you  and  your  'national  representation.'  " 

"On  my  side,"  shouted  Lucien,  "I  do  not  snap  my 
fingers  at  you,  Citizen  Consul,  but  I  well  know  what 
I  think  about  you." 


318  THE  EOSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"What  do  you  think  about  me,  Citizen  Lucien? 
Parbleu!  I  am  curious  to  know.  Out  with  it!" 

"I  think,  Citizen  Consul,  that,  having  sworn  to  the 
constitution  of  the  eighteenth  Brumaire,  as  President 
of  the  Council  of  the  Five  Hundred,  and  seeing  you 
despise  it  thus,  if  I  were  not  your  brother  I  would  be 
your  enemy!" 

"My  enemy!"  screamed  Bonaparte.  "Try  it  once! 
That  's  rather  strong ! ' '  And,  shaking  his  fist  at  Lu 
cien,  as  he  had  done  once  before,  "Thou  my  enemy!" 
he  screamed  again,  and  then  sank  back  in  the  water 
up  to  his  neck,  as  if  exhausted.  In  a  moment  he  spoke 
again  in  a  somewhat  quieter  tone: 

"Cease  this  miserable  caviling  which  you  and 
Joseph  are  at  work  on  night  and  day— ridiculous  for 
him,  and  still  less  appropriate  for  you.  It  is  not  from 
you  that  I  expect  lessons  in  government.  Enough ! 
Forget  all  you  have  said  about  it !  I  shall  contrive  to 
dispense  with  you.  A  precious,  well-disposed  pair  of 
brothers  you  are !  Please  call  back  the  valet ;  I  must 
get  out  of  the  bath-tub  at  once. ' ' 

The  valet  had  come  in ;  Joseph  and  Lucien,  thinking 
the  matter  was  dropped,  were  turning  toward  the 
door;  the  valet  was  spreading  open  the  sheet  to  wrap 
up  his  master,  when  the  Consul  suddenly  returned  to 
the  charge,  and  thundered  in  a  tone  that  made  Lucien 
and  Joseph  start  and  turn  back  quickly,  and  the  valet 
drop  the  sheet  from  his  trembling  hands : 

"Well,  sirs,  think  what  you  please  about  the  sale 
of  Louisiana !  but  you  may  both  of  you  put  on  mourn 
ing  over  this  thing— you,  Lucien,  over  the  sale  of  your 


A  TEMPEST  IN  A  BATH-TUB  319 

province;  you,  Joseph,  because  I  propose  to  dispense 
with  the  consent  of  all  persons  whatsoever.  Do  you 
hear?" 

I  fairly  shivered  in  my  hiding-place  at  such  an  out 
break  on  such  a  topic  in  the  presence  of  a  servant. 
Lucien  shrank  farther  toward  the  door,  but  Joseph, 
who  had  held  his  peace  through  the  quarrel  of  the  two 
brothers,  stung  by  the  scornful  words  and  manner,  and 
especially  by  the  contemptuous  { l  Do  you  hear  ? ' '  which 
was  like  a  cutting  snapper  to  the  Consul's  lashing 
wrath,  rushed  back,  exclaiming: 

"You  will  do  well,  my  dear  brother,  not  to  lay  your 
plan  before  the  Chambers,  for  I  swear  to  you  I  will 
put  myself,  if  necessary,  at  the  head  of  the  opposi 
tion  which  will  certainly  be  made. ' ' 

There  was  no  reply  from  Bonaparte  but  an  out 
burst  of  loud  and  sardonic  laughter. 

Joseph  flushed  dark  red,  and,  almost  beside  himself 
with  rage,  stooping  over  the  figure  that  lay  immersed 
in  the  bath,  screamed  out: 

"Laugh !  laugh !  laugh,  then !  All  the  same,  I  shall 
do  what  I  say,  and,  though  I  do  not  like  to  mount  the 
tribune,  this  time  you  '11  see  me  there!" 

At  these  words,  Bonaparte  rose  in  the  bath-tub  so  as 
to  show  half  his  body  out  of  the  water,  opaque  and 
frothy  with  cologne,  and  pale  as  his  brother  was  red, 
he  cried  sternly : 

"You  will  not  need  to  play  the  orator,  for  I  repeat 
to  you  that  this  debate  will  not  take  place,  because 
the  plan  so  unlucky  as  to  be  disapproved  by  you,  con 
ceived  by  me,  negotiated  by  me,  will  be  ratified  and 


320  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

executed  by  me— by  me  alone;  do  you  understand? 
—by  me !"  Then  he  sank  back  once  more  to  his  neck 
in  the  water.  Joseph,  whose  self-control  was  all  gone, 
his  face  aflame,  roared: 

"Well,  general,  on  my  side,  I  tell  you  that  you  and 
I  and  all  the  family,  if  you  do  what  you  say  you 
will,  may  get  ready  to  join  shortly  those  poor  innocent 
devils  whom  you  so  legally,  so  humanely,— above  all, 
with  so  much  justice,— have  had  transported  to  Cay 
enne  ! ' ' 

This  was  a  terrible  home  thrust,  and  I  could  see 
Lucien  draw  hastily  still  farther  back  toward  the  door, 
and  the  valet  literally  cowered. 

"You  insolent  fellow!"  thundered  Bonaparte.  "I 
ought—'  But  I  did  not  hear  the  rest  of  the  sen 
tence,  for  as  he  spoke  he  rose  quickly  from  the  water 
and  plunged  heavily  back,  so  that  the  water  dashed  out 
in  a  flood  on  the  floor.  Lucien.  who  was  back  by  the 
door,  escaped  a  wetting;  but  Joseph  received  the 
splash  full  in  his  face,  and  his  clothes  were  drenched. 
The  valet  ran  to  Joseph's  assistance,  but  had  no  more 
than  begun  to  sponge  him  off  than  he  fell  to  the  floor 
in  a  fainting  fit.  The  quarrel  was  calmed  at  once, 
and  the  Bonapartes  good-heartedly  ran  to  the  res 
cue.  Joseph  hurried  to  pick  him  up  from  the  wet 
floor;  Lucien  rang  the  bell  so  hard  that  Rustan  and 
another  servant  came  running  in,  frightened;  and 
the  First  Consul,  his  eyes  and  lips  just  visible  above 
the  rim  of  the  bath-tub,  called  out  sympathetically : 

"Carry  off  the  poor  fellow,  and  take  good  care  of 
him." 


A  TEMPEST  IN  A  BATH-TUB  321 

As  for  me,  the  excitement  was  too  much  for  me 
also.  I  did  not  faint,  but  my  stool,  which  was  none  of 
the  steadiest  on  its  three  legs,  suddenly  tipped  from 
the  excess  of  my  emotion,  and,  though  I  caught  myself 
from  falling  entirely,  I  yet  made  what  sounded  to  my 
horrified  ears  a  deafening  racket.  In  reality  I  sup 
pose  it  was  only  a  slight  scuffling  noise,  but  it  was 
enough  to  catch  the  quick  ears  of  the  First  Consul  and 
Rustan. 

"  What  was  that  ? "  I  heard  the  First  Consul  say  in  a 
startled  tone. 

"I  think,  sir,  it  was  some  noise  in  the  closet,"  I 
heard  Rustan  reply.  "If  Monsieur  Joseph  will  assist 
in  supporting  your  valet,  I  will  investigate." 

Now  was  my  last  hour  come.  But  I  was  not  going 
to  die  like  a  rat  in  a  trap.  I  would  rush  out  the  door 
into  the  public  corridor,  and,  if  necessary,  slay  the 
guard  and  make  one  bold  dash  for  safety.  I  drew 
my  sword  from  its  scabbard  to  have  it  in  readiness  in 
my  hand  for  whatever  might  befall,  pulled  back  the 
curtain,  and  came  near  running  through  the  body 
my  pretty  Felice  !  She  was  coming  to  keep  her  prom 
ise  to  me  and  show  me  the  way  out.  She  did  not 
seem  to  see  my  sword,  but  the  moment  she  saw  me  she 
spoke  in  great  excitement: 

"Make  haste,  Monsieur;  there  is  not  a  moment  to 
lose.  You  can  escape  through  the  main  corridor. 
But  you  must  be  quick,  for  the  Consul  may  finish  his 
bath  at  any  minute,  and  his  brothers  retire  here  to 
await  him  while  he  dresses." 

We  were  hurrying  toward  the  door  as  she  spoke, 
21 


322  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

but  I,  feeling  as  if  the  Mameluke  were  close  behind  me, 
seized  her  hand  and  dragged  her  roughly  into  the 
corridor  as  I  whispered: 

"Yes,  we  must  be  quick,  for  Rustan  is  after  us!" 

With  a  half -suppressed  scream  she  let  go  my  hand, 
turned  to  Gaston,  who  was  standing  at  the  door  mo 
tionless  as  a  statue  and,  to  all  appearance,  deaf  and 
blind  as  one  also,  uttered  the  one  word,  "Rustan!" 
and  fled  swiftly  down  the  dark  side  corridor,  leaving 
me  utterly  bewildered.  The  western  sun  was  flood 
ing  the  cabinet  of  the  First  Consul  when  I  went  into 
my  hiding-place,  but  the  sun  had  set  and  twilight  had 
fallen  and  the  candles  had  been  long  lit  when  I  stepped 
out  into  the  corridor.  The  wax  tapers  set  in  sconces 
along  the  corridor  lighted  it  but  poorly,  and  I  knew 
not  which  way  to  go. 

"Run,  Monsieur!"  cried  Gaston,  in  a  terrified 
whisper,  "straight  down  the  corridor  till  you  come  to 
the  grand  staircase.  And  run  as  if  the  devil  was 
after  you,  for  he  is!" 

That  was  all  I  needed,— a  word  of  direction,— and 
I  was  off.  But  scarcely  had  I  gone  a  few  feet  when 
I  heard  a  great  noise  and  shouting  behind  me,  and 
Gaston  crying,  "Stop  thief!"  I  thought  at  first  he 
was  turning  traitor,  now  that  he  had  my  gold  piece 
with  no  chance  of  gaining  another  from  me.  But 
as  I  ran  the  faster,  and  the  noise  behind  me  did  not 
seem  to  gain  on  me,  as  I  feared  it  might,  I  concluded 
he  was  making  a  great  outcry  to  cover  his  own  part  in 
my  escape,  and  perhaps  was  hindering  the  pursuit 
more  than  helping  it. 


A  TEMPEST  IN  A  BATH-TUB  323 

Yet  when  I  came  to  the  turn  of  the  grand  staircase 
I  thought  for  a  moment  I  had  also  come  to  the  end  of 
my  days ;  for  just  as  I  felt  sure  I  was  distancing  those 
behind  me,  there  came  running  swiftly  toward  me 
from  the  other  end  of  the  dim  corridor  an  officer  with 
sword  drawn,  and  I  saw  he  would  meet  me  exactly  at 
the  head  of  the  grand  staircase.  The  light  from  a  tali 
taper  fell  on  his  face  as  he  neared  the  staircase.  It 
was  the  Chevalier  Le  Moyne! 

I  had  but  a  moment  to  think.  Should  I  stop  to  en 
gage  with  him,  I  had  no  doubt  I  could  unsword  him 
as  easily  as  he  had  unsworded  me  in  the  dance  by 
Chouteau's  Pond;  but  the  delay  would  bring  a  score 
to  his  help,  and  I  would  be  quickly  overpowered,  if 
not  done  to  death  at  once.  Neither  did  I  like  to  turn 
my  back  on  that  drawn  sword  as  I  fled  down  the  steps, 
feeling  sure  it  would  spit  me  through  the  shoulders, 
much  as  Narcisse  spitted  the  wild  fowl  for  roasting 
at  Emigre's  Retreat.  But  above  all  I  did  not  wish  the 
chevalier  to  see  my  face ;  for,  even  should  I  make  good 
my  escape,  Paris  would  be  no  safe  place  for  me  should 
he  recognize  in  the  flying  ' 'thief"  his  hated  St.  Louis 
rival. 

I  pulled  my  hat  low  over  my  eyes,  lifted  my  left 
arm  before  my  face  as  if  to  shield  it  from  his  sword, 
rushed  straight  toward  him,  met  him,  as  I  thought  I 
should,  at  the  top  of  the  staircase,  and,  with  a  quick 
twist  of  my  foot  (a  school-boy's  trick),  sent  him 
sprawling  down  the  stairs.  In  three  great  bounds  I 
had  cleared  the  staircase  and  his  prostrate  body,  and 
like  a  whirlwind  I  threw  myself  upon  the  sentry  at  its 


324  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

foot,  who— half  dazed  by  this  sudden  descent  of  the 
chevalier  and  myself,  one  rolling  and  bumping  from 
step  to  step,  the  other  leaping  through  the  air  like 
some  great  winged  creature— was  nevertheless  in  the 
act  of  raising  his  gun  to  fire  at  me.  As  I  hurled  my 
great  weight  full  upon  him,  the  gun  flew  from  his 
hands,  and  his  little  dancing-master  figure  went 
pirouetting  across  the  terrace  into  the  darkness  be 
yond,  in  a  vain  struggle  to  recover  his  balance.  I 
sprang  down  the  terrace  after  him,  and  disappeared  in 
the  friendly  darkness. 

It  was  time.  Starting  from  the  gloom  in  every  di 
rection,  armed  figures  seemed  to  spring  from  the 
ground,  while  down  the  great  staircase  behind  me  clat 
tered,  shrieking  and  shouting  in  every  key,  a  throng 
of  officers  and  soldiers,  led  by  a  dark  figure  gliding 
swiftly  and  silently  far  in  advance,  and  holding  in  his 
upraised  hand  something  that  glittered  as  it  caught 
the  rays  from  wax  tapers.  In  the  very  act  of  spring 
ing  down  the  first  terrace,  I  saw  the  glittering  dagger 
leave  Rustan's  hand,  hurled  straight  at  my  head,  and 
heard  it  fall  far  below  me  on  the  stone  parapet  of  the 
last  terrace. 

It  was  but  the  work  of  a  moment  to  run  swiftly  to 
the  pines  and  find  Fatima,  and  lead  her  out  of  the 
thicket.  I  had  not  found  my  seat  upon  her  back  when 
she  bounded  away  into  the  dark,  straight  down  the 
broad  green  allee  that  led  toward  the  Bois  de  Boulogne 
and  Paris.  Then  was  there  hurrying  to  horse,  and 
the  pounding  of  many  hoofs  behind  me  on  the  soft 
turf,  and  the  wild  clamor  of  confused  orders  shouted 


Rushed  straight  toward  him 


A  TEMPEST  IN  A  BATH-TUB  325 

back  and  forth,  and  a  fusillade  of  bullets  firing  into 
the  dark,  if  by  chance  one  might  find  its  mark. 

But  I  no  longer  felt  any  fear.  Fatima  was  stretch 
ing  away  beneath  me  with  the  swift  and  easy  motion 
of  a  bird,  and  I  did  not  believe  there  was  a  horse  in  all 
France  could  overtake  her.  The  night  was  my  friend, 
too,  and  a  dark  night  it  was ;  for  the  clouds  had  gath 
ered  and  shut  out  even  the  faint  light  of  stars,  and 
I  could  not  so  much  as  see  my  hand  before  my  face. 
But  I  could  trust  Fatima  to  find  her  way,  and  I  felt 
nothing  but  a  wild  exhilaration  as  we  went  swinging 
along  in  great  strides  through  the  cool,  damp  night 
breeze,  and  I  could  tell,  from  the  clamor  of  voices  and 
pounding  of  hoofs  growing  more  distant,  that  we  were 
gaining  on  our  pursuers. 

Out  from  the  soft  turf  of  the  park  we  clattered  on 
to  the  stony  streets  of  the  little  village.  Here  there 
were  lights,  and  people  passing  to  and  fro,  who 
stopped  and  stared  at  the  wild  flight  of  horse  and 
rider.  But  none  molested  until  the  hallooes  and  the 
clatter  of  hoofs  of  those  following  reached  their  ears. 
Then  men  rushed  out  from  low  taverns,  from  hut  and 
hovel  and  respectable  houses,  brandishing  arms  and 
shouting  ' '  Stop  thief ! ' '  and  adding  much  to  the  noise 
and  excitement,  but  availing  nothing  to  stop  the  fu 
gitive.  Only  one  young  fellow,  an  officer  by  his  dress, 
snatched  a  gun  from  a  bystander,  and  fired  with  so 
true  an  aim  that  had  I  not  ducked  my  head  I  would 
have  had  no  head  to  duck. 

But  in  a  few  moments  we  had  left  the  village  behind 
us  and  were  once  more  on  the  unlighted  country  roads. 


326  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Faster  and  faster  we  flew,  by  hedge  and  stone  wall  and 
orchard,  whence  the  night  breeze  wafted  the  scent  of 
blossoming  fruit-trees,  with  ever  the  sound  of  hallooes 
and  hoofs  growing  fainter  in  the  distance. 

Yet  not  until  I  had  long  ceased  to  catch  even  the 
slightest  sound  of  pursuit,  and  we  were  well  on  our 
way  through  the  gloomy  depths  of  the  Bois,— night 
haunt  of  robbers,  suicides,  and  assassins,— did  I  draw 
rein  and  give  Fatima  a  chance  to  breathe.  As  we  am- 
ibled  along,  my  pulses  growing  quieter  as  Fatima  V 
breath  no  longer  came  in  deep-drawn  sobs,  but  regu 
larly  in  warm  puffs  from  her  wide  nostrils,  I  fell  ta 
thinking  over  the  events  of  the  afternoon. 

Now  that  it  was  all  safely  over,  and  no  ill  had  be 
fallen  me,  and  I  had  brought  no  disgrace  upon  my 
uncle,  I  was  elated  beyond  measure  that  my  adventure 
had  exceeded  my  wildest  hopes  of  its  success.  I  had 
seen  the  great  Bonaparte,  and  would  henceforth  know 
him  as  no  man  outside  the  circle  of  his  intimate 
friends  could  possibly  know  him.  He  would  no  longer 
be,  in  my  eyes,  the  impossible  hero  of  romance,  fault 
less  and  beyond  criticism,  but  a  man  with  more  than 
the  ordinary  man's  meed  of  shortcomings  as  to  tem 
per,  yet  with  also  a  thousand  times  more  than  any 
ordinary  man's  power  to  control  men  and  mold  cir 
cumstance.  Dictatorial,  harsh,  intolerant  of  all  opin 
ions  that  did  not  coincide  with  his  own,  brooking  no 
interference  with  his  methods  or  suggestions  as  to  his 
duty,  he  could  yet  be  playful  and  affectionate  with  the 
brother  he  loved,  sympathetic  with  a  servant  whom  hi» 
own  harsh  temper  had  frightened  into  fainting,  and 


A  TEMPEST  IN  A  BATH-TUB  327 

touched  with  a  soft  feeling  of  regret  for  the  colony  he 
ruthlessly  alienated  from  the  fatherland. 

My  mind  pictured  him  vividly  in  every  aspect  in 
which  I  had  seen  him,  but  strongest  and  most  persis 
tent  of  all  was  the  vision  of  the  figure  in  the  deep- 
armed  chair,  bowed  in  mournful  thought,  or  with  arm 
outstretched  to  my  uncle,  and  voice  trembling  with 
suppressed  emotion,  saying: 

"Let  the  Louisianians  know  that  we  separate  our 
selves  from  them  with  regret.  Let  them  retain  for  us 
sentiments  of  affection.  And  may  our  common  ori 
gin,  descent,  language,  and  customs  perpetuate  the 
friendship !" 


CHAPTER   XXII 

MR.    MONROE   ARRIVES! 

"No  sun  upon  an  Easter  day 
Is  half  so  fine  a  sight." 

IT  was  ten  o'clock  when  I  reached  Monsieur  Mar- 
bois's  house  and  found  my  aunt  anxiously  await 
ing  me.  I  had  to  explain  the  lateness  of  my  return 
and  the  bespattered  condition  of  my  garments  by  tell 
ing  her  I  had  lost  my  way  in  the  Boulogne  woods 
(which  was  true,  for  in  those  winding  roads  Fatima 
did  for  a  time  go  astray),  and  such  was  her  horror  at 
the  thought  of  the  perils  to  which  I  had  been  exposed 
in  that  forest  of  evil  repute  that  she  questioned  me  not 
at  all  about  my  visit  to  St.  Cloud,  for  which  I  was  de 
voutly  thankful.  She  had  expected  that  my  uncle 
would  be  detained  all  night,  so  that  I  had  no  explana 
tions  to  make  in  his  behalf. 

The  dinner-hour  was  long  past,  but  she  insisted  on 
having  a  hot  supper  prepared  for  me,  and  though  my 
conscience  assured  me  I  deserved  to  go  to  bed  hungry, 
the  little  fillet  of  beef  with  mushrooms,  flanked  by 
an  omelet  au  gr&tin,  whieh  Jacques,  my  aunt's  ac 
complished  chef,  sent  tip  to  my  room  piping  hot,  with 
a  glass  of  fine  *ld  Burgundy,  tasted  a  little  better  to 

328 


MB.  MONROE  ARRIVES!  329 

me  than  I  ever  remembered  anything  to  have  tasted 
before.  Le  petit  souper  was  served  in  my  room,  be 
cause  my  aunt  had  insisted  that  my  wet  clothes  should 
be  removed  (it  had  begun  to  rain  long  before  we 
reached  the  streets  of  Paris)  and  I  should  get  into  a 
hot  bath  at  once  to  prevent,  if  possible,  the  cold  she 
was  sure  I  had  contracted  on  my  wet  and  perilous  ride. 

Safe  in  my  own  comfortable  room,  warm  and  re 
freshed  from  my  bath,  with  a  delicious  supper  smoking 
before  me,  the  memory  of  my  exciting  adventures  and 
the  discomforts  of  the  latter  part  of  the  ride,  lost  in 
the  dismal  woods  and  chilled  to  the  bone  by  the  cold 
rain,  already  began  to  grow  dim  and  hazy. 

The  April  rain  driving  against  my  windows  added 
to  my  sense  of  comfort  and  security.  It  had  been  a 
good  friend  to  me  in  at  least  two  respects:  it  had 
washed  out  every  trace  of  Fatima's  hoof -prints,  so 
that  not  even  Monsieur  Fouche's  lynx-eyed  police 
could  track  me  when  the  morning  light  should  start 
them  on  the  trail;  and  it  had  ruined  my  new  puce- 
colored  costume.  Remembering  how  I  had  rejoiced  in 
the  wearing  of  it  that  very  morning,  its  destruction 
might  not  seem  to  be  a  cause  for  thankfulness.  But  I 
would  never  dare  to  wear  it  again,  lest  some  one  who 
had  seen  me  at  St.  Cloud  (most  of  all,  the  chevalier) 
should  recognize  it;  and  yet  I  might  have  found  it 
•difficult  to  frame  excuses  for  not  wearing  it  that  would 
satisfy  my  aunt's  minute  and  anxious  care  for  me, 
which  extended  to  seeing  that  I  wore  the  proper  suit 
for  every  occasion. 

But  I  did  not  feel  quite  so  secure  the  next  morning, 


330  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

when  I  saw  posted  all  over  the  city  flaming  accounts  of 
an  attack  upon  the  First  Consul 's  life  when  he  was  in 
his  bath,  frustrated  by  the  vigilance  of  his  faithful 
Mameluke.  There  followed  descriptions  of  the  assas 
sin  as  given  by  various  witnesses  who  had  had  deadly 
hand-to-hand  encounters  with  him,  no  two  descriptions 
agreeing  in  any  particulars,  except  that  he  was  of 
great  stature  and  rode  a  mysterious  steed  that  bore 
him  away  on  the  wings  of  the  wind. 

There  was  great  excitement  throughout  all  Paris, 
and  there  were  not  wanting  those  who  hinted  at 
supernatural  agencies.  Some  of  those  who  had  stood 
gaping  at  our  swift  flight  through  St.  Cloud  village 
were  ready  to  swear  that  the  horse  the  assassin  rode 
had  wings  from  his  shoulders  and  his  feet,  and  one 
poor  lout  added  a  tail  and  a  pair  of  horns  for  the 
rider ! 

I  might  have  been  amused  at  all  this  if  it  had  not 
been  for  the  Chevalier  Le  Moyne.  It  was  almost  in 
evitable  that  I  should  meet  him  some  day  in  the  city, 
and  when  he  should  come  to  know  of  my  presence  in 
Paris  he  would  at  once  connect  the  assassin  of  great 
size  and  his  wonderful  horse  with  the  horse  and  rider 
that  had  snatched  Mademoiselle  Pelagic  from  his  grasp 
at  Rock  Spring.  And  I  was  quite  sure,  also,  that  no 
considerations  of  gratitude  for  his  life  spared  when 
he  was  in  my  power  would  deter  him  from  handing 
me  over  to  the  merciless  police  with  the  greatest  de 
light,  now  that  I  was  in  his  power. 

So  it  was  not  with  a  perfect  sense  of  security  that 
I  went  about  Paris  for  the  next  day  or  two,  and  I 


MR.  MONROE  ARRIVES!  331 

left  Fatima  to  pine  in  her  stable  rather  than  to  run 
the  risk  of  suggesting  a  resemblance  to  some  St.  Cloud 
villager  while  yet  the  apparition  of  horse  and  rider 
was  fresh  in  his  mind. 

I  did  not  see  my  uncle  until  late  on  Tuesday  after 
noon.  He  had  gone  direct  to  the  Treasury  office  on 
Monday  morning,  and  had  been  summoned  to  St. 
Cloud  again  Monday  afternoon  to  spend  the  night. 
I  had  fully  made  up  my  mind  to  make  a  clean  breast 
of  it  to  him  when  I  should  see  him,  though  I  dreaded 
much  the  just  reprimands  I  knew  I  should  receive.  It 
was  with  a  very  trembling  heart,  but  striving  to  keep 
as  courageous  a  front  as  possible,  that  I  obeyed  a 
summons  to  his  private  library  late  Tuesday  after 
noon.  My  uncle  was  sternness  itself. 

"Sit  down,  sir,"  he  said  as  I  entered,  scarcely  re 
turning  my  greeting. 

"If  you  will  permit  me,  I  would  prefer  to  stand 
until  I  have  made  an  explanation  and  my  most  heart 
felt  apologies, "  I  replied,  determined  to  speak  quickly 
and  have  it  over  before  my  courage  should  desert  me. 

"I  desire  no  apologies,"  returned  my  uncle,  a  lit 
tle  less  sternly,  I  thought,  "and  I  particularly  desire 
that  you  make  me  no  explanations.  If  you  had  any 
connection  with  the  mysterious  assassin  and  his  horse, 
I  prefer  to  be  able  to  say  that  I  know  nothing  at  all 
about  it.  I  may  have  my  suspicions  that  only  a  dare 
devil  young  American  could  accomplish  such  feats  of 
prowess  as  were  ascribed  to  this  'assassin,'— over 
power  single-handed  all  the  guards  of  the  palace,  and 
make  good  his  escape  on  a  steed  of  supernatural  swift- 


332  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

ness,— but  I  prefer  that  they  should  remain  suspi 
cions  ;  do  you  understand  ? ' ' 

I  bowed  silently,  too  mortified  to  make  any  reply. 

"I  may  have  my  theories,  also,"  continued  my  un 
cle,  "as  to  this  young  daredevil's  presence  in  the  First 
Consul's  closet,  and  they  would  certainly  not  be  those 
entertained  by  the  police.  Yet  it  would  be  a  difficult 
matter  to  convince  any  one,  least  of  all  the  First  Con 
sul  and  Fouche,  that  he  could  be  there  for  any  other 
purpose  than  assassination;  and  should  his  identity 
be  discovered,  I  fear  no  influence  could  be  brought  to 
bear  strong  enough  to  save  his  life.  Permit  me  to  add, 
also,  that  an  insatiable  curiosity  to  be  present  at  coun 
cils  of  state,  such  as  I  have  no  doubt  led  this  young 
man  to  contrive  an  entrance  into  the  Consul's  private 
apartments,  seems  to  me  only  one  degree  less  culpable 
than  the  dastardly  designs  of  an  assassin." 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  scathing  tone  with 
which  my  uncle  uttered  this  last  sentence.  Nor,  had 
I  been  receiving  condemnation  from  a  just  judge  for 
the  most  dastardly  crimes,  could  I  have  felt  keener  hu 
miliation.  I  dared  not  lift  my  eyes,  and  every  pulse  in 
my  body  sent  the  blood  in  waves  to  my  already  scar 
let  countenance.  I  broke  out  into  a  great  sweat  all 
over  my  body  as  I  realized  that  I  had  forever  forfeited 
the  respect  and  confidence  of  my  uncle,  whom  I  greatly 
honored  and  admired.  I  felt  that  I  must  make  one  des 
perate  effort  to  regain  a  little  of  what  I  had  lost.  Not 
until  that  moment  did  I  dream  that  I  would  be 
suspected  of  deliberately  hiding  in  that  closet  for  the 
purpose  of  eavesdropping,  and  not  to  be  allowed  to 


MR.  MONROE  ARRIVES!  333 

explain  to  my  uncle  that  my  presence  there  was  by 
accident  was  almost  more  than  I  could  bear. 

"Sir,"  I  began,  still  not  lifting  my  eyes,  "you  will 
not  permit  me  to  tell  you  anything  when  I  had  desired 
to  tell  you  all,  but  I  beg  that  you  will  allow  me  to  say 
that  it  was  not  a  spirit  of  mean  curiosity  that  moved 
that  young  man,  but  a  spirit  of  foolish  and  reckless 
adventure,  of  which  he  bitterly  repents — most  of  all, 
because  he  has  forever  forfeited  the  respect  and  esteem 
of  him  whose  good  opinion  he  most  prizes.  He  will  re 
turn  at  once  to  America,  where  he  will  be  in  no  danger 
of  disgracing  those  whom  he  honors  so  highly.  That 
his  visit  to  Paris,  so  kindly  planned  by  you,  looked  for 
ward  to  with  such  delight,  and,  until  the  present  mo 
ment,  enjoyed  so  keenly,  should  end  in  such  failure, 
is  a  greater  bitterness  than  you  can  comprehend ;  but 
he  feels  that  he  has  richly  deserved  it  for  his  fool 
ish  recklessness.  He  only  prays  that  in  condemning 
his  actions  you  will  not  judge  too  harshly  of  his 
motives,  and  that  if  it  is  possible  to  retain  affection 
where  esteem  is  forfeited,  he  may  still  be  permitted  to 
retain  a  little  of  yours. " 

I  stood  with  my  head  bowed  for  what  seemed  to  me 
a  very  long  time  before  my  uncle  spoke.  Then  he  said 
in  the  kindest  of  tones : 

' '  Sit  down,  my  boy ;  't  is  not  quite  so  bad  as  that. ' ' 

I  looked  up  quickly.  My  uncle  was  actually  smiling, 
and  a  great  load  rolled  off  my  heart.  For  whereas  a 
moment  before  I  had  thought  I  could  never  look  any 
man  in  the  face  again,  least  of  all  my  uncle,  it  now 
seemed  to  me  that  there  was  almost  as  much  of  kindly 


334  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

affection  in  his  glance  as  I  had  ever  found  there.  Yet 
I  would  not  sit  down,  as  my  uncle  so  kindly  insisted, 
feeling  that  I  deserved  still  to  retain  the  attitude  of 
culprit;  seeing  which,  my  uncle  softened  still  more. 

"Perhaps  I  have  been  too  hard  on  you,"  he  said; 
"it  was  a  foolish  trick,  without  doubt,  and  you  de 
serve  some  punishment  for  your  thoughtlessness  and 
recklessness.  From  what  I  know  of  you,  I  can  charge 
you  with  no  mean  motive,  and  I  am  not  sure  but  that 
at  your  age  an  adventure  of  such  kind  would  have 
tempted  me  greatly.  I  do  not  mind  saying,  also,  that 
I  am  rather  proud  of  the  way  you  got  yourself  out 
of  your  scrape,  and  I  am  glad  there  were  no  more 
serious  results  than  a  sprained  ankle  for  the  Chevalier 
Le  Moyne  and  a  temporary  aberration  of  mind  for  the 
sentry.  I  am  told  you  sent  him  spinning  in  such 
fashion  that  his  brains  flew  out  of  the  top  of  his  head, 
and  it  was  some  hours  before  he  got  them  back  again. 
I  hear,  too,  that  he  insists  it  could  have  been  no  less 
a  personage  than  his  Satanic  Majesty  himself  who 
with  a  touch  of  the  hand  sent  his  gun  flying  when 
he  was  in  the  very  act  of  firing,  and  then  gave  him 
a  twirl  that  sent  him  spinning  down  the  terraces  in 
the  dark." 

I  did  not  want  to  laugh,  but  I  could  not  quite  sup 
press  a  sheepish  grin  at  this  picture  of  the  dazed  sen 
try,  seeing  which  my  uncle  threw  back  his  head  and 
laughed  in  a  way  I  am  sure  he  learned  in  America,  for 
I  have  never  heard  the  like  from  these  ever-smiling 
Parisians.  I  would  have  liked  to  laugh  with  him,  so 
jolly  did  it  sound,  and  my  heart  growing  lighter  every 


MR.  MONROE  ARRIVES!  335 

moment;  but  I  did  not  quite  dare.  In  a  minute  my 
uncle  stopped  as  suddenly  as  lie  had  begun,  and  was 
all  seriousness  again. 

"Well,  well,  my  boy,  it  's  all  over/'  he  said,  "and 
I  am  thankful  there  was  no  bloodshed,  and  not  very 
sorry  that  the  chevalier  must  go  limping  for  a  while. 
I  like  not  that  fellow,  and  I  don't  understand  why 
he  is  hanging  around  the  First  Consul  so  much  of  late. 
As  to  your  going  back  to  America,  it  would  be  the 
worst  possible  thing  to  do.  You  might  as  well  make 
a  confession  at  once.  No;  you  must  go  about  exactly 
as  you  have  always  done,  no  more,  no  less— certainly 
no  less.  And  you  must  ride  Fatima,  but  always  at  a 
moderate  pace,  and  be  sure  you  make  no  exhibitions  of 
her  training." 

I  hardly  knew  how  to  thank  my  uncle,  and  I  told 
him  so.  I  was  indeed  glad  not  to  be  sent  back  to 
America,  and  I  had  no  doubt  that  he  was  right  about 
the  wisdom  of  showing  myself  in  public  places  with 
Fatima.  I  was  glad,  too,  to  hear  him  say  that  he 
did  not  like  the  Chevalier  Le  Moyne.  I  thought  I 
could  have  enlightened  him  as  to  the  chevalier's 
reasons  for  hanging  around  the  First  Consul,  but  my 
uncle  did  not  know  that  I  had  ever  seen  Chevalier  Le 
Moyne  before,  and  I  could  not  explain  to  him  without 
telling  him  also  about  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit;  and — I 
knew  not  why,  but  I  shrank  greatly  from  mentioning 
her  name  to  my  uncle.  So  I  held  my  peace  about  the 
chevalier,  and  instead  made  many  promises  as  to 
my  future  conduct,  and  expressed  many  regrets  ior 
the  past. 


336  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

I  was  leaving  the  room,  feeling  myself  partly  at 
least  restored  to  my  self-respect,  when  my  uncle  called 
me  back. 

"I  've  a  piece  of  news  that  may  interest  you,"  he 
said.  "The  President's  envoy,  Mr.  Monroe,  has  ar 
rived,  and  I  am  going  to  call  on  him  at  Mr.  Living 
ston's  this  evening.  Would  you  like  to  go  with  me?" 

I  thanked  him  much,  and  assured  him  that  I  was 
greatly  honored  and  pleased  at  his  invitation  (which 
did,  indeed,  seem  to  me  like  a  sign  that  his  confidence 
in  me  had  returned),  and  then  I  hastily  left  the  room 
with  my  head  in  a  whirl.  Mr.  Monroe  had  arrived ! 
Then  so  also  had  mademoiselle.  I  knew  of  no  way  to 
quiet  the  tumult  of  my  heart  and  brain  but  to  go  for  a 
ride  on  Fatima,  though  in  my  state  of  excitement  it 
was  hard  work  keeping  her  down  to  the  moderate  pace 
my  uncle  had  recommended. 

I  sought  the  Champs-Elysees,  for  it  was  the  fashion 
able  hour  for  driving,  and  I  hoped  that  she  might 
be  taking  the  air  there  with  all  the  rest  of  the  world, 
though  I  hardly  thought  it  probable  so  soon  after  her 
arrival.  I  rode  slowly  up  and  down  the  avenue,  bowing 
to  many  acquaintances,  and  looking  eagerly  at  every 
beautiful  woman,  whether  I  knew  her  or  not,  for  fear 
that,  seeing  her  in  a  strange  city  with  strange  sur 
roundings,  I  might  pass  her  and  not  know  her. 

I  was  about  to  give  up  the  quest  and  go  home,  when 
I  saw  coming  toward  me  a  carriage  that  had  just 
turned  into  the  avenue  from  a  street  leading  to  the 
Faubourg  St.  Germain.  It  was  more  magnificent 
than  any  I  had  seen,  with  outriders  in  gorgeous  liv- 


MR.  MONROE  ARRIVES!  337 

eries,  but  I  thought  that  hardly  accounted  for  the 
way  people  were  staring,  stopping  to  look  back  when 
the  carriage  had  passed,  and  the  young  men  bowing  to 
the  ground.  My  heart  began  to  beat  tumultuously, 
as  if  it  knew  what  my  eyes  were  soon  to  look  upon ; 
yet  I  am  not  sure  that  I  really  believed  it  until  it 
burst  upon  me,  a  vision  of  dazzling  loveliness.  Had  I 
forgotten  how  beautiful  she  was?  or  was  it  that  the 
fine  Parisian  hat  and  dress  had  added  the  transcendent 
touch?  Unconsciously  I  drew  Fatima  to  one  side, 
so  dazzled  was  I  by  her  radiance;  and  so  she  did  not 
see  me,  though  she  was  looking  eagerly  from  side  to 
side,  trying  to  take  in  at  once  all  this  wonderful  Paris 
of  which  she  had  heard  so  much.  She  seemed  to  me 
like  a  happy  child,  eyes  and  lips  smiling  with  delight, 
and  I  was  happy  just  to  be  looking  at  her,  though 
I  liked  not  the  face  of  the  proud  and  haughty  lady 
who  sat  beside  her,  and  who,  I  feared,  would  never 
let  her  speak  to  her  old  St.  Louis  friend. 

The  carriage  passed,  and  I,  too,  looked  back,  as  did 
all  the  rest  of  the  world.  Alas!  in  one  moment  was 
my  J°y  turned  to  bitterness;  for,  sitting  with  his 
back  to  the  horses  and  facing  Pelagie,  a  proud  smile 
as  of  ownership  on  his  evil  but  handsome  face,  sat 
the  Chevalier  Le  Moyne! 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE  CONSUL'S  SENTENCE 

*"T  is  an  old  maxim  in  the  schools, 
That  flattery  7s  the  food  of  fools ; 
Yet  now  and  then  your  man  of  wit 
Will  condescend  to  take  a  bit." 

'  T  WONDER  what  her  cousin  will  say  about  it  ?  He 
JL  is  her  next  of  kin,  and  I  suppose  will  have  some 
authority. ' ' 

"You  mean  the  young  Due  d'Enghien?  He  is  in 
Baden,  you  know,  and  not  in  a  position  to  say  any 
thing.  He  is  still  emigre,  and  likely  to  remain  so;  for 
the  First  Consul  distrusts  all  Bourbon  princes." 

' '  Yes ;  but  he  might  use  his  authority  with  his  royal 
cousin,  even  at  a  distance.  I  had  always  thought  he 
and  the  Comte  d'  Artois  had  other  plans  for  the  com- 
tesse — that  she  was  to  strengthen  their  house  by  an  al 
liance  with  one  of  the  royal  houses  of  Europe." 

"Without  doubt  that  was  their  plan,  but  the  other 
side  of  the  house  got  ahead  of  them.  It  is  to  prevent 
just  such  an  alliance,  I  believe,  that  the  wily  old 
duchesse  is  planning  this  marriage  with  the  chevalier. 
He  is  too  far  down  in  the  royal  ranks  to  be  a  danger 
ous  parti." 

1  *  Have  her  estates  been  restored,  do  you  know  ? ' ' 
338 


THE  CONSUL'S  SENTENCE  339 

"I  am  not  sure,  but  I  think  not.  I  have  heard  that 
Bonaparte  is  making  this  marriage  a  condition.  He, 
too,  wants  to  prevent  anything  that  will  strengthen 
the  power  of  the  Bourbons. ' ' 

"Oh,  then  the  marriage  is  assured,  and  the  duchesse 
has  accomplished  her  purpose.  I  am  sorry.  I  wish 
the  comtesse  had  remained  a  little  longer  in  Amer 
ica." 

"I  am  not  quite  so  sure  about  it.  It  seems  the  com 
tesse  herself  is  making  difficulties.  Perhaps,  now  that 
she  has  discovered  her  true  rank,  she  does  not  consider 
the  chevalier  sufficiently  noble. ' ' 

1 '  It  will  make  no  difference  what  she  thinks  or  feels, 
poor  child;  with  the  duchesse  and  the  First  Consul 
both  against  her,  she  is  as  helpless  as  a  bird  in  the 
^snares  of  the  fowler." 

I  was  one  of  the  group  where  this  conversation  took 
place,  and  so,  though  I  had  no  part  in  it,  I  could  not 
be  considered  an  eavesdropper  (for  I  had  sworn  that, 
rather  than  listen  again  to  what  was  not  intended  for 
my  hearing,  I  would  go  about  with  my  ears  stuffed 
-jrith  wax  and  be  deaf  to  the  whole  world).  No  name 
had  been  mentioned,  yet  I  knew  well  it  was  of  the 
Comtesse  de  Baloit  they  were  speaking,  and  every 
word  pierced  my  soul  like  a  knife. 

A  stir  at  the  upper  end  of  the  grand  salon  put  a 
stop  to  the  conversation.  Every  voice  was  hushed,  and 
all  eyes  were  turned  to  where  Madame  Bonaparte  and 
the  First  Consul  were  making  a  grand  entry.  They 
were  followed  by  a  throng  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  in 
attendance,  and  the  scene  could  not  have  been  more 


340  THE  ROSE   OF   OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

magnificent  had  they  been  king  and  queen  holding 
royal  court,  with  lords  and  ladies  in  waiting. 

I  had  eyes  at  first  for  no  one  but  Madame  Bona 
parte  (since  coming  to  live  at  the  Tuileries  she  was  no 
longer  called  Citizeness  Bonaparte),  whom  I  had  not 
yet  seen,  this  being  my  first  levee,  and  of  whom  I  had 
heard  almost  as  much  as  of  the  First  Consul.  I  had 
heard  that  she  was  not  faultlessly  beautiful,  but  of 
great  charm,  and  I  could  see  at  once  that  this  was 
true.  I  do  not  know  why  she  was  not  perfectly  beau 
tiful — perhaps  her  features  were  a  little  heavy,  her 
nose  a  little  long,  her  cheek-bones  a  little  high,  which 
just  prevented  her  face  from  being  faultless ;  but  her 
eyes  were  large  and  lustrous  and  beaming  with  kind 
ness,  and  her  hair  was  soft  and  dark  and  abundant 
and  gathered  under  a  Grecian  filet  in  rich  waves  and 
curls,  and  her  skin  was  of  that  creamy  whiteness  so 
often  seen  in  Creoles,  and  which  sets  off  so  well  dark 
hair  and  eyes.  I  have  never  seen  more  beautiful  neck 
and  shoulders  and  arms ;  they  looked  to  me  more  like 
some  of  those  beautiful  figures  in  marble  in  the  Louvre 
Museum,  that  Bonaparte  brought  back  with  him  from 
Italy,  than  like  real  flesh  and  blood. 

She  was  dressed  all  in  white,  and  my  aunt  whis 
pered  to  me  that  the  First  Consul  liked  her  best  in 
white,  and  that  it  was  said  when  Madame  Bonaparte 
(who  was  herself  fond  of  more  gorgeous  costumes) 
appeared  in  white,  it  was  a  sign  either  that  she  was 
jealous  of  her  husband  and  was  trying  to  win  back 
his  straying  affections,  or  that  she  wanted  some  special 
favor  granted.  Very  likely  this  was  only  idle  court 


THE  CONSUL'S  SENTENCE  341 

gossip,  but  it  might  easily  be  true,  for  I  could  hardly 
think  her  so  nearly  beautiful  in  any  other  dress  as  in 
that  softly  falling  white,  with  high  girdle  of  gold, 
richly  jeweled,  and  her  dark  waves  of  hair  caught  in 
a  golden  net  under  the  Grecian  filet. 

The  First  Consul  was  very  magnificent  also ;  I  think 
he  likes  dress  as  well  as  his  wife.  When  I  had  looked 
well  at  these  two,  I  had  leisure  to  look  at  their  retinue ; 
and  I  looked  first  at  the  gentlemen,  many  of  whom 
were  wearing  the  brilliant  uniforms  of  army  officers. 
To  my  chagrin,  my  eyes  fell  almost  instantly  upon  the 
Chevalier  Le  Moyne,  wearing  the  very  gorgeous  uni 
form  of  aide  to  General  Bonaparte.  As  I  looked  at 
him  his  eye  caught  mine,  and  I  saw  him  start,  turn 
pale,  and  then  color  violently.  In  a  moment  he  forced 
a  quick  smile  to  his  lips  (to  his  teeth,  I  had  almost 
said,  for  there  was  always  something  wolfish  to  me  in 
his  smile),  and  then  he  bowed.  I  returned  his  bovr 
very  coldly,  and  his  presence  there  suggesting  to  me 
that  I  might  possibly  find  Pelagic  among  the  court 
ladies  (for  so  'tis  the  fashion  to  call  them  in  jest),  I 
turned  to  look  .Tor  her.  Yes,  she  was  there,  and,  like 
Madame  Bonaparte,  all  in  white.  Only  Pelagie's  white 
was  filmy  and  lacy,  and  fuller  and  more  flowing  than 
madame's,  with  jewels  shining  in  its  folds  and  in  her 
waving  hair.  And  whereas  Madame  Bonaparte  made 
me  think  of  a  Greek  goddess,  Pelagic  reminded  me  of 
one  of  Mr.  Shakspere's  fairies,  sparkling,  graceful, 
exquisite. 

She  did  not  seem  to  see  me,  and  I  eould  gaze  at  her 
no  longer,  for  the  First  Consul  was  already  moving 


342  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

about  from  group  to  group  of  the  assembled  guests, 
saying  a  few  words  to  each,  and  he  was  just  approach 
ing  our  party.  He  greeted  my  aunt  and  uncle  and 
those  standing  with  us,  whom  he  knew,  very  affably ; 
then  he  turned  his  quick  glance  on  me,  and  my  uncle 
presented  me. 

' '  Ah, ' '  he  said, ' '  I  was  not  mistaken.  I  thought  you 
were  from  America  when  I  saw  you  in  church  on 
Easter  morning  " ;  and,  turning  to  my  uncle,  he  added : 

"We  do  not  grow  such  great  fair  men  in  France, 
Citizen  Minister. " 

"No,"  said  my  uncle,  quickly;  "we  have  small  dark 
great  men  in  France,  Citizen  First  Consul. ' ' 

Bonaparte  laughed,  pleased  both  with  the  play  on 
words  and  my  uncle *s  compliment,  and  turned  quickly 
to  the  next  group  before  I  had  time  to  stammer  out 
how  flattered  I  felt  at  his  remembering  me. 

The  next  group  happened  to  be  the  English  ambas 
sador,  Lord  Whitworth,  and  his  friends.  The  Consul 
had  been  very  affable  with  us,  and  I  had  discovered 
that  his  smile  was  of  rare  sweetness  and  gave  great 
beauty  to  his  face.  But  as  he  turned  to  Lord  Wljit- 
worth  the  smile  vanished  and  his  brows  were  drawn 
together  in  a  dark  frown.  Without  the  slightest  word 
of  greeting,  he  spoke  to  him  abruptly  and  harshly : 

"I  find  your  nation  wants  war  again." 

Lord  Whitworth  bowed  low,  and  a  dull  red  slowly 
spread  over  his  face  as  he  answered : 

"No,  sir;  we  are  very  desirous  of  peace." 

"You  have  just  finished  a  war  of  fifteen  years," 
said  Bonaparte  again,  in  the  most  offensive  of  tones, 
almost  a  sneer. 


THE  CONSUL'S  SENTENCE  343 

The  ambassador  bit  his  lip  in  his  effort  at  self-con 
trol,  but  he  answered  with  great  suavity : 

" It  is  true,  sir;  and  that  was  fifteen  years  too 
long," 

"But  you  want  another  war  of  fifteen  years,"  in 
sisted  Bonaparte,  his  tones  every  moment  harsher  and 
louder,  so  that  every  one  in  that  part  of  the  salon 
could  not  help  but  hear.  All  conversation  ceased,  and 
every  one  listened  with  strained  and  painful  attention. 
Lord  Whitworth  quietly  reiterated: 

"Pardon  me,  sir;  we  are  very  desirous  of  peace." 

Then,  in  a  tone  that  rang  out  like  the  harsh  clang  of 
crossing  swords,  Bonaparte  cried : 

* '  I  must  either  have  Malta  or  war ! ' ' 

A  shock  ran  through  the  whole  assembly.  No  man 
dared  look  at  his  neighbor.  This  was  nothing  less 
than  a  declaration  of  war,  and  in  the  most  insulting 
manner.  Whether  the  proud  representative  of  the 
haughtiest  nation  on  the  globe  would  receive  such  a 
rude  insult  to  himself  and  his  country  calmly  was  very 
doubtful,  and  we  all  awaited  Lord  Whitworth 's  reply 
in  trembling  silence.  With  compressed  lips  and  eyes 
that  flashed  in  spite  of  himself,  but  with  a  calmness  in 
marked  contrast  to  Bonaparte's  petulance,  he  replied: 

"I  am  not  prepared,  sir,  to  speak  on  that  subject; 
and  I  can  only  assure  you,  Citizen  First  Consul,  that 
we  wish  for  peace." 

Bonaparte's  frown  grew  darker,  but  he  said  no 
more ;  and  with  a  curt  nod,  and  almost  a  sneer  on  his 
lips,  he  withdrew  at  once  into  a  small  cabinet  opening 
into  the  salon,  leaving  the  rest  of  his  guests  without 
addressing  a  word  to  them,  which  I  was  told  afterward 


344  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

was  very  unusual  with  him,  and  showed  that  his  irri 
tation  must  be  very  great. 

An  embarrassed  silence  followed  the  First  Consul's 
exit.  I  had  been  looking  forward  to  this  levee  for 
weeks,  but  it  promised  to  be  a  very  uncomfortable  oc 
casion  for  me  as  well  as  for  others.  I  had  a  great  de 
sire  to  speak  to  the  British  ambassador  and  assure  him 
of  my  sympathy,  for  none  of  the  Frenchmen  so  much 
as  dared  to  look  at  him,  now  that  he  was  in  disgrace, 
lest  it  be  reported  to  the  Consul,  and  they  themselves 
fall  under  suspicion.  But  I  feared  it  would  be  pre 
sumption  in  one  so  young  and  unknown,  and  I  dreaded 
meeting  the  haughty  British  stare  with  which  an  Eng 
lishman  petrifies  one  he  considers  unduly  forward. 
Much  to  my  relief,  and  indeed  to  the  relief  of  the 
whole  company,  my  uncle  turned  to  him  and  began  at 
once  to  talk  in  a  most  animated  manner  of  the  doings 
in  the  American  Congress.  That  the  relief  was  gen 
eral  was  evident,  for  conversation  was  at  once  re 
sumed,  and  with  a  gaiety  that  was  somewhat  feverish, 
I  thought. 

It  was  our  turn  now  to  pay  our  respects  to  Ma 
dame  Bonaparte.  I  had  been  eager  to  meet  her  until 
I  discovered  the  presence  of  Pelagie ;  but  now  it  had 
suddenly  become  a  trying  ordeal  to  walk  forward  and 
salute  madame,  and  perhaps  stand  talking  to  her  a 
few  moments,  conscious  that  Pelagie 's  eyes,  if  they 
cared  to,  might  be  watching  every  movement.  Should 
I  be  awkward  (as  I  feared  I  would  under  such  a  scru 
tiny),  I  was  sure  there  would  be  the  old  mocking  light 
in  them  I  had  so  often  seen,  and  dreaded  to  see,  in  St. 


THE  CONSUL'S  SENTENCE  345 

Louis.  I  resolved  not  to  glance  at  her  once  while  I 
was  going  through  my  ordeal,  lest  she  should  prove  my 
undoing;  and  I  tried  to  think  only  of  the  charming 
woman  who  smiled  bewitchingly  when  I  made  gallant 
speeches,  and  who  tapped  me  with  her  fan  in  much  the 
same  playful  fashion  as  Mistress  Madison  had  tapped 
me  with  her  jeweled  snuff-box.  Indeed,  she  reminded 
me  much  of  the  lovely  Washington  lady.  Both  had 
the  same  kind  way  of  putting  an  awkward  lad  at  his 
ease,  and  seeming  to  like  him  and  be  pleased  with  his 
speeches,  especially  if  they  savored  a  little  of  audacity. 
But  Madame  Bonaparte  had  not  the  dash  and  sparkle 
of  Mistress  Madison ;  instead,  she  had  a  lazy  Southern 
fashion  of  speech  and  a  wonderfully  winning  gentle 
ness  that  I  am  not  sure  was  not  more  charming  than 
the  gay  brilliancy  of  the  other. 

She  kept  me  talking  to  her  longer  than  I  had  ex 
pected  (or  hoped  for),  and  I  began  to  see  significant 
glances  exchanged,  while  my  color  was  steadily  rising ; 
and  I  was  sure  mademoiselle  (if  she  looked  at  me  at 
all),  noting  my  shining  curls,  as  yellow  as  the  gold 
lace  on  my  white  satin  court-dress,  and  my  cheeks 
flaming  like  any  girl's,  was  saying  to  herself  with  in 
finite  scorn,  " Pretty  boy!" 

I  think  Madame  Bonaparte  saw  the  significant 
glances  also,  for  she  said  presently: 

"You  must  meet  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit.  She  has 
just  returned  from  your  America,  and  you  will  have 
much  in  common  to  talk  about." 

And  so  I  found  myself  bowing  low  over  Pelagic 's 
hand,  and  a  moment  later  looking  straight  down  into- 


346  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

her  lovely  dark  eyes,  which  looked  straight  up  at  mine 
with  no  hint  of  scorn  in  their  shadowy  depths,  but 
only  a  great  wonder,  and  a  little  of  something  else  that 
set  my  pulses  to  beating  like  trip-hammers. 

"I  cannot  understand,  Monsieur,"  she  said.  "I 
shall  have  to  ask  you,  as  you  asked  me  in  Washington 
—how  did  you  get  here?" 

"It  was  a  lodestar  drew  me,"  I  murmured. 

But  the  warm  light  in  her  eyes  changed  quickly  to 
proud  disdain. 

"I  like  not  idle  gallantries  between  old  friends. 
Keep  those  for  Madame  Bonaparte.  I  saw  they 
pleased  her  greatly,  and  that  you  were  much  flattered 
by  their  reception." 

Could  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit  be  jealous?  or  was 
it  the  haughty  Faubourg  St.  Germain  scorning  the 
parvenue  of  the  Tuileries?  I  hoped  it  was  the 
first,  but  in  either  case  it  behooved  me  to  make  quick 
amende. 

"Forgive  me,  Comtesse,"  I  said,  as  coldly  as  she 
had  spoken,  but  in  English,  and  so  low  that  I  hoped 
no  listener  could  understand  even  if  he  knew  the 
tongue.  "It  was  true,  but  you  could  not  know  how 
true,  and  I  have  no  right  to  tell  you.  I  know  well 
how  great  a  distance  lies  between  the  proud  Lady  of 
France  and  a  simple  American  gentleman.  Permit 
me  to  inform  you,  Comtesse,  that  I  have  been  in  Paris 
for  more  than  a  month  with  my  uncle,  Monsieur 
Barbe  Marbois.  And  permit  me  to  add,  as  a  simple 
fact  in  which  you  may  be  interested  or  not,  that  this 
is  the  moment  for  which  I  have  lived  through  that 


THE  CONSUL'S  SENTENCE  347 

month— the  moment  when  I  should  meet  again  the 
Comtesse  de  Baloit." 

It  had  ever  been  the  way  with  the  little  Pelagic  in 
America  to  meet  her  hauteur  with  hauteur,  but  I  was 
not  sure  it  would  work  here,  and  I  trembled  inwardly 
while  I  spoke  so  calmly.  But  it  did.  Her  lids 
dropped  for  a  moment,  and  a  soft  color  stole  up  to 
her  temples.  When  she  lifted  her  eyes  again,  there 
was  a  sweet,  shy  light  in  them. 

"  Monsieur, "  she  said  softly,  in  her  pretty  English, 
"why  do  you  call  me  Comtesse?  Have  you  forgot 
ten?" 

"Is  it  still  to  be  Mademoiselle?"  I  cried  eagerly, 
and  had  hard  work  not  to  pick  her  up  in  my  arms  and 
run  away  with  her,  so  adorable  was  she  in  her  sweet 
friendliness. 

"Mademoiselle  always,  unless  it  is—  But  then 
she  broke  off  suddenly  and  turned  a  rosy  red,  and 
added  quickly,  with  something  of  her  old  sauciness: 
"Never  Comtesse,  unless  I  am  very,  very  naughty." 

My  heart  told  me  what  she  had  meant  to  say,  and 
I  whispered  proudly : 

"Unless  it  is  some  day — Pelagie";  and  I  know  my 
eyes  told  her  all  the  rest  I  did  not  dare  to  say,  for  she 
looked  away  from  me  quickly,  and  I,  glancing  up,  met 
a  black  scowl  on  the  face  of  the  chevalier,  who,  I  knew, 
must  have  been  watching  this  little  by-play,  though 
he  could  not  have  heard  a  word,  such  was  the  buzz  and 
clatter  of  conversation  about  us.  His  face  cleared  in 
stantly,  and  he  stepped  quickly  forward  with  a  forced 
smile  and  an  extended  hand. 


348      THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

" Permit  me  to  greet  an  old  friend/'  he  said  gaily. 
"When  did  you  arrive  in  Paris?" 

It  would  have  been  well  for  me  if  I  could  have 
swallowed  my  pride  sufficiently  to  take  his  proffered 
hand ;  but  it  seemed  to  me  the  hand  of  a  scoundrel  and 
a  dastard,  and  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  touch  it.  I 
pretended  not  to  see  it,  and  I  hoped  the  chevalier  and 
those  who  were  looking  on  might  be  deceived  into 
thinking  I  did  not,  as  I  answered  pclitely  enough: 

"The  Chevalier  Le  Moyne  is  very  kind  to  welcome 
me  so  cordially  to  Paris." 

And  then,  with  a  sudden  recollection  of  our  last  en 
counter,  and  hoping  to  throw  him  off  the  track,  I 
added : 

"I  have  been  in  Paris  but  a  short  time;  this  is  my 
first  visit  to  the  Tuileries. ' ' 

But  I  had  not  deceived  him.  The  black  scowl  re 
turned  quickly  at  my  rejection  of  his  proffered  hand, 
and  stretching  himself  to  his  full  height,  so  as  to  be  as 
near  my  ear  as  possible,  he  said  between  his  teeth : 

"It  may  be  your  first  visit  to  the  Tuileries,  Mon 
sieur  ;  but,  if  I  mistake  not,  you  have  been  at  St.  Cloud 
before.  If  I  had  known  you  were  in  Paris  I  would 
have  been  at  no  loss  to  account  for  the  mysterious 
horse  and  his  rider.  I  suppose  you  have  brought  that 
accursed  mare  with  you?" 

I  may  have  turned  pale,  for  I  saw  black  ruin  yawn 
before  me,  but  I  answered  steadily : 

"I  do  not  understand  you,  Monsieur.  I  beg  you 
will  explain." 

' '  Diable !    You  understand  well  enough,  Monsieur, ' ' 


THE  CONSUL'S  SENTENCE  349 

he  sneered,  and  turned  and  walked  away  with  an  ex 
aggerated  limp— it  had  been  scarcely  perceptible  when 
he  came  to  greet  me. 

I  had  little  time  to  worry  over  this  new  peril  that 
threatened,  for  my  uncle  came  up  to  present  me  to 
more  of  the  "court  ladies,"  and  I  did  my  best  to  talk 
and  be  merry,  while  in  the  background  of  my  thoughts 
I  was  trying  to  plan  some  way  of  escape  from  the 
meshes  of  the  net  I  saw  closing  around  me.  Paris  was 
no  longer  any  place  for  me.  I  must  tell  my  uncle  at 
the  first  opportunity,  and  ask  his  help  in  getting  away 
as  quietly  as  possible  to  America ;  and  at  that  thought, 
and  that  I  was  cutting  myself  off  from  ever  seeing 
again  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit,  I  groaned  inwardly,  and 
could  have  cursed  the  reckless  folly  that  had  brought 
me  to  such  a  pass. 

In  the  midst  of  my  troubled  thoughts  I  saw  an  offi 
cer  approach  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit  (for,  no  matter 
to  whom  I  might  be  talking,  the  Comtesse  was  ever  in 
my  sight) ,  bow  low,  and  apparently  deliver  some  mes 
sage  to  her.  I  saw  her  turn  to  the  lady  who  stood  near 
her  (the  one  with  whom  I  had  seen  her  driving,  whose 
bearing  was  so  stern  and  haughty,  and  who,  I  did  not 
doubt,  was  the  duchesse  I  had  heard  spoken  of  as  de 
siring  to  marry  her  to  the  chevalier),  and  then  the 
officer  offered  an  arm  to  each  of  them  and  bore  them 
away  to  the  cabinet  to  which  the  First  Consul  had 
withdrawn. 

I  did  not  know  why  this  should  be  cause  for  anxiety 
on  my  part,  but  none  the  less  I  felt  anxious.  When, 
a  few  minutes  later,  the  same  officer  approached  the 


350  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Chevalier  Le  Moyne  and  delivered  to  him  also  a  mes 
sage,  and  the  chevalier  deliberately  turned  to  me  with 
a  smile  of  triumph,  and  then  followed  the  officer  to  the 
same  cabinet,  I  felt  doubly  anxious.  Indeed,  so  great 
had  my  anxiety  become  that  it  was  almost  impossible 
for  me  to  keep  up  longer  the  semblance  of  gay  con 
verse  with  the  witty  beauties  about  me. 

The  chevalier's  smile  of  triumph  meant  one  of  two 
things— either  terrible  for  me,  but  one  impossible  to 
think  of.  It  meant,  "You  see,  now  I  have  my  chance 
to  denounce  you  to  the  First  Consul,  and  I  shall  use 
it"— which  would  mean  nothing  less  than  death  for 
me ;  or,  it  meant,  ' '  You  see,  the  First  Consul  is  bring 
ing  his  influence  to  bear  upon  my  marriage  with  the 
Comtesse  de  Baloit;  it  is  all  arranged"— which  would 
mean  something  far  worse  than  death  for  me. 

I  was  not  surprised,  therefore,  and  I  was  almost  re 
lieved  when  ten  minutes  later  the  officer  touched  me 
on  the  shoulder. 

"The  First  Consul  desires  your  presence  in  his  cabi 
net,  Monsieur,"  he  said;  and  I  turned  and  followed 
him,  conscious  that  I  was  followed  in  turn  by  all  eyes. 
There  had  been  no  surprise  when  first  the  comtesse 
and  then  the  chevalier  had  been  summoned,  for  every 
one  thought  he  understood— the  First  Consul's  power 
ful  influence  was  to  be  brought  to  bear  upon  a  recalci 
trant  maiden;  and  while  some  pitied,  none  doubted 
that  the  First  Consul's  influence  would  avail.  But  no 
one  knew  what  connection  I  could  have  with  the  affair, 
and  the  first  moment  of  startled  surprise  was  followed 
by  a  murmur  of  curious  surmises. 


THE  CONSULTS  SENTENCE  351 

Amid  that  murmur  I  walked  as  one  who  goes  to  his 
execution;  for  from  the  moment  the  officer  touched 
me  upon  the  shoulder  I  had  known  what  the  cheva 
lier's  smile  of  triumph  meant,  and  I  knew  that  I  was 
on  my  way  to  be  accused  and  condemned,  and,  for 
aught  I  knew,  marched  off  to  instant  execution  under 
the  eyes  of  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit.  As  I  passed  Mon 
sieur  Marbois,  his  eyes,  filled  with  a  startled  alarm, 
met  mine.  I  tried  to  reassure  him  with  a  smile,  but  I 
fear  it  was  sorry  work,  for  a  sudden  rush  of  remem 
brance  of  all  his  goodness  to  me  overwhelmed  me  and 
came  near  to  unmanning  me. 

Just  inside  the  door  of  the  cabinet  the  officer 
stopped,  and  motioned  to  me  also  to  stay  my  steps. 
On  whatever  errand  I  had  been  sent  for,  it  was  evi 
dent  that  neither  the  First  Consul  nor  any  one  else 
was  quite  ready  for  me.  The  Consul  was  seated,  while 
on  one  side  of  him  stood  the  chevalier,  and  on  the  other 
the  duchesse  and  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit;  and  that 
any  man  should  remain  seated  in  the  presence  of  the 
comtesse  filled  me  at  once  with  a  blind  rage  that  ill 
prepared  me  to  play  my  part  in  what  was  about  to 
follow.  The  attitude  of  the  three  struck  me  at  once 
as  significant:  the  duchesse  complacent,  with  almost 
a  smile  upon  her  haughty  features,  and  to  the  best  of 
her  ability  beaming  upon  the  First  Consul ;  the  cheva 
lier  eager,  obsequious,  fawning ;  the  comtesse  her  head 
held  proudly  up,  a  little  frown  between  her  brows,  her 
eyes  flashing;  impatience,  annoyance,  disdain  ex 
pressed  in  every  feature.  The  First  Consul  was 
speaking  as  we  entered,  and  I  thought  his  tones  were 


352  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

meant  to  be  persuasive;  they  were  less  rasping  than 
I  had  often  heard  them. 

"The  estates  are  very  great,  Mademoiselle."  (And 
again  I  was  indignant  that  he  should  address  her  as 
Mademoiselle,  a  title  which  I  felt  belonged  to  no  man 
to  use  but  to  me.  I  knew,  of  course,  that  it  was  but 
the  common  usage, — that  titles  were  not  permitted  in 
republican  France,— but  none  the  less  I  was  angry.) 
"Your  father  was  almost  the  richest  man  in  France," 
he  was  saying.  "Should  I  restore  these  estates  to  you, 
I  must  have  some  guaranty  that  they  will  be  used  for 
the  welfare  of  the  republic,  and  not  against  it.  Citi 
zen  Le  Moyne  is  such  a  guaranty.  His  sword  is  al 
ready  pledged  to  the  service  of  the  republic,  and  to 
the  Citizeness  Le  Moyne  I  will  restore  all  the  estates 
of  her  father." 

A  bright  red  spot  burned  in  each  of  Pelagic 's 
cheeks.  I  know  not  what  she  might  have  said  (though 
she  looked  not  as  if  she  would  meekly  yield  assent  to 
this  powerful  plea),  for  at  that  moment  the  First 
Consul  discovered  our  entrance  and  turned  to  the 
chevalier. 

"Citizen  Le  Moyne,"  he  said,  "you  asked  us  to 
send  for  this  young  man.  He  is  here.  What  has  the 
nephew  of  Monsieur  Marbois  to  do  with  this  matter  ? ' ' 

A  malicious  smile  played  round  the  chevalier's  lips. 

"If  you  remember,  Citizen  First  Consul,"  he  said 
"I  told  you  that  at  one  time  mademoiselle  was  not 
averse  to  my  suit— that  in  all  probability  I  would  have 
won  her  hand  in  St.  Louis,  but  that  her  mind  was 
poisoned  against  me  by  malicious  insinuations  and 


THE   CONSUL'S  SENTENCE  353 

fabrications,  the  work  of  a  rival  who  desired  to  win 
her  for  himself  ?" 

The  chevalier  waited  for  the  Consul's  reply,  and  he 
nodded  curtly. 

"Well?" 

"Citizen  First  Consul,  that  rival  is  the  nephew  of 
Minister  Marbois,  and  I  have  brought  him  here  to 
ask  him  to  renounce  publicly  all  claims  to  the  hand  of 
the  Citizeness  de  Baloit." 

I  saw  a  flash  in  the  beautiful  eyes,  and  a  proud  toss 
of  the  little  head  that  I  well  knew  meant,  "He  has  no 
claim,"  and  I  hastened  to  speak. 

"Sire,"  I  said  quickly,  and  then  stopped  in  confu 
sion.  How  could  I  have  made  such  an  egregious  blun 
der  as  to  address  the  first  citizen  of  the  republic  by  a 
royal  title?  Yet  it  was  a  natural  enough  mistake,  for 
no  Czar  or  Sultan  or  Grand  Mogul  was  ever  a  more 
autocratic  ruler  than  he,  or  made  men  tremble  more 
at  his  nod.  I  thought  I  had  no  doubt  ruined  my  cause 
in  the  very  outset,  for  a  dark  frown  gathered  between 
the  Consul's  brows,  but  it  quickly  disappeared. 

"I  believe  you  spoke  innocently,  young  man,"  he 
said,  with  a  smile  of  rare  sweetness.  "Speak  on!" 

"Pardon,  Citizen  First  Consul,"  I  said— "it  was 
indeed  an  innocent  mistake" ;  and  then  I  added  with  a 
sudden  impulse  of  audacity,  "but  a  very  natural  one. " 

The  Consul  answered  me  only  with  his  flashing 
smile,  that  transfigured  his  face,  and  I  hurried  on : 

"I  wish  to  say,  sir,  that  I  have  no  claim  to  the 
hand  of  Mademoiselle  la  Comtesse."  I  saw  from  the 
tail  of  my  eye  her  head  take  a  prouder  pose  and  her 


354  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

lips  curl  scornfully  as  she  perceived  that  I  was  tamely 
renouncing  my  " claim "  at  the  chevalier's  bidding; 
but  I  went  calmly  on:  "I  have  always  known  that 
there  was  a  great  gulf  fixed  between  the  proud  Lady  of 
France  of  royal  blood  and  a  simple  American  gentle 
man.  Mademoiselle  la  Comtesse  has  never  given  me 
any  reason  to  hope  that  that  gulf  could  be  crossed, 
but,"  and  I  turned  and  looked  straight  at  the  cheva 
lier,— and  if  my  head  was  flung  back  too  proudly  and 
my  eyes  flashed  too  fiercely  and  my  voice  rang  out  too 
defiantly,  it  was  from  no  lack  of  respect  to  the  great 
Bonaparte,  but  because  my  soul  was  seething  with 
wrath  and  indignation  against  that  cowardly  villain 
—"but  should  Mademoiselle  la  Comtesse  give  me  the 
faintest  hope  that  the  honest  love  of  an  honest  Ameri 
can  heart  could  weigh  with  her  against  lands  and  ti 
tles,  that  the  devotion  of  a  lifetime  to  her  every 
thought  and  desire  could  hope  to  win  her  love,  then  no 
argument  the  Chevalier  Le  Moyne  could  bring  to  bear 
would  have  a  feather's  weight  with  me.  I  would  re 
nounce  my  'claim  to  her  hand'  only  with  my  life!" 

The  First  Consul's  eyes  were  smiling  as  I  ceased 
speaking;  there  was  no  frown  on  his  brow.  The  du- 
chesse  looked  aghast,  as  if  it  were  inconceivable  blas 
phemy  that  I  should  think  of  aspiring  to  the  comtesse, 
and  the  chevalier's  face  was  dark,  with  an  ugly  sneer 
distorting  his  lips.  But  I  cared  little  how  Consul  or 
duchesse  or  chevalier  took  my  speech:  I  cared  only  for 
what  mademoiselle  might  think.  I  glanced  quickly  at 
her.  Her  head  was  drooping,  her  long  lashes  were 
sweeping  her  cheek,  her  face  was  rosy  red,  and  a  half- 


THE  CONSUL'S   SENTENCE  355 

smile  was  playing  about  her  mouth.  My  heart  beat 
high  with  exultant  joy.  I  turned  proudly  to  the 
chevalier  and  awaited  the  thunderbolt  I  knew  was  sure 
to  fall.  He,  too,  had  seen  mademoiselle's  soft  and 
drooping  aspect,  and  the  sight  had  lashed  him  to  fury. 
But  before  he  had  a  chance  to  speak,  the  First  Consul 
himself  spoke  with  good-natured  raillery : 

"I  think,  Citizen  Le  Moyne,  your  golden-haired 
giant  makes  a  very  good  plea  for  himself.  Suppose  I 
offer  him  a  position  on  my  staff  and  make  a  French 
man  of  him,  and  then  let  the  Citizeness  de  Baloit 
choose  between  you  ?  Perhaps  her  estates  would  be  as 
safe  in  his  hands  as  in  yours. ' ' 

Had  the  First  Consul  uttered  his  speech  with  the 
purpose  of  lashing  the  chevalier  to  fury  and  goading 
him  to  still  greater  venom  against  me,  he  could  have 
taken  no  better  course  to  accomplish  it. 

"Safe!"  he  hissed.  "Safe  in  the  hands  of  an  as 
sassin  !  You  would  give  mademoiselle  and  her  estates 
to  the  man  who  hid  in  your  closet  to  attempt  your  life 
in  your  bath !  Regardez  !  the  coward — the  sneak — the 
villain !  When  your  Mameluke  discovers  him  he  flees. 
I  run  to  your  defense.  Does  he  meet  me  with  his 
sword  like  an  honorable  gentleman?  No!  he  trips  me 
with  the  foot  like  a  school-boy,  and  throws  me  down 
the  stair,  to  be  the  laughing-stock  of  my  fellow-offi 
cers  !  Because  he  is  a  giant,  he  falls  upon  your  sentry 
of  small  stature  and  hurls  him  down  the  terraces !  He 
calls  to  his  trick  horse,— trained  in  the  circus,  I  do  not 
doubt,— and  rides  away  in  the  dark,  and  thinks  no 
one  will  ever  know!  But  7  know.  I  have  seen  his 


356  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

tricks  in  America.  He  is  a  clown— a  mountebank! 
No  gentleman  would  touch  his  hand!" 

The  chevalier's  voice  had  grown  shriller  and  higher 
with  each  word,  till  he  ended  in  a  scream,  tearing  his 
hair,  rushing  up  and  down  the  cabinet  in  his  fury,  and 
pointing  every  epithet  with  a  long  finger  extended  to 
ward  me.  I  could  have  smiled  at  such  childish  rage 
but  that  it  was  too  serious  a  matter  to  me  for  smiling. 
Mademoiselle's  eyes  were  wide  with  terror  and  amaze, 
and  the  Consul's  brow  grew  darker  with  every  word 
of  the  chevalier's. 

"Officer,  call  the  guard!"  he  said  in  his  rasping 
voice,  as  soon  as  the  chevalier  gave  him  a  chance  to 
speak,  and  I  knew  my  doom  was  sealed. 

But  mademoiselle  sprang  forward,  one  arm  out 
stretched  to  stay  the  officer,  and  one  extended  toward 
the  Consul  in  supplication. 

"No,  no,  officer,  not  yet!"  she  cried,  and  then  to 
Bonaparte : 

"Oh,  Citizen  Consul,  it  is  all  a  terrible  mistake!  I 
know  him  well.  He  could  not  be  guilty  of  so  dreadful 
a  crime !  He  could  not  do  anything  mean  or  low  or 
dishonorable.  There  is  no  gentleman  in  the  world 
more  generous  and  noble !  And  the  man  who  de 
nounces  him  owes  his  life  to  him!" 

"Look  at  him,  Mademoiselle,"  said  the  Consul, 
harshly,  "and  see  if  his  looks  do  not  confess  him  the 
culprit." 

I  knew  that  I  must  look  the  very  picture  of  con 
scious  guilt,  for  every  word  mademoiselle  had  uttered 
had  pierced  me  like  a  two-edged  sword.  I  might  have 


THE  CONSUL'S  SENTENCE  357 

braved  the  chevalier's  accusations  and  the  First  Con 
sul's  suspicions  (for,  after  all,  neither  had  any  evi 
dence  against  me),  but  I  could  not  bear  her  generous 
confidence  in  me,  feeling  that  I  had  so  miserably  for 
feited  my  right  to  it  by  indulging  in  a  foolish  boyish 
prank.  I  did  not  raise  my  head  (where  it  had  sunk 
in  shame),  but  by  reason  of  being  so  much  taller  I  yet 
could  see  her  turn  toward  me,  see  her  look  of  implicit 
trust  change  slowly  to  doubt  and  fear.  Then  I  heard 
her  utter  one  low  cry,  "Oh,  Monsieur,  Monsieur!" 
and  turn  away.  In  a  moment  my  resolve  was  taken. 
I  would  make  a  clean  breast  of  it;  she  should  not 
think  me  worse  than  I  was.  I  lifted  my  head. 

"Mademoiselle!"  I  cried,  and  she  turned  quickly 
toward  me  and  looked  straight  into  my  eyes  with  a 
look  that  was  hard  to  bear.  "I  am  guilty  Mademoi 
selle!  I  am  the  man  who  was  in  the  First  Consul's 
closet,  and  who  escaped  on  Fatima  's  back. ' ' 

The  Consul  made  a  motion  toward  the  officer,  but  I 
turned  to  him  quickly. 

"I  beg  you,  sire,"— and  this  time  I  did  not  know 
that  I  had  said  it,  not  until  long  afterward,  when  one 
of  those  who  heard  told  me  of  it,— "that  you  will  not 
send  your  officer  for  the  guard  until  I  have  made  my 
confession;  then  you  can  send  for  it,  and  I  will  go 
away  quietly,  without  resistance." 

"Very  well,  officer;  you  can  wait,"  said  Bonaparte, 
still  harshly.  The  rest  of  my  confession  I  addressed 
directly  to  him. 

"I  am  no  clown,  mountebank,  or  circus  rider  in 
my  own  country,  sir,  as  the  Chevalier  Le  Moyne 


358  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

would  have  you  believe;  I  am  the  son  of  a  Philadel 
phia  gentleman,  and  the  nephew  of  Madame  Marbois. 
Unfortunately,  life  in  my  native  land  has  bred  in  me 
a  spirit  of  adventure  that  has  many  times  been  near 
my  undoing.  It  has  also  bred  in  me  a  great  love'  for 
the  life  of  a  soldier,  and  a  great  admiration  for  the 
famous  soldiers  of  history.  When  I  accompanied  my 
uncle  to  St.  Cloud,  and  knew  that  he  was  summoned 
there  to  meet  the  First  Consul,  I  was  seized  with  a 
desire  to  enter  the  palace  and  roam  through  the  rooms 
where  the  First  Consul  dwelt.  When  I  found  admis 
sion  was  not  permitted  I  thought  it  would  be  a  fine  ad 
venture  to  find  my  way  in  without  permission.  It  was 
a  boy's  wild  spirit  of  daring,  and  a  boy's  almost  idola 
trous  hero-worship  that  led  me  into  such  a  scrape. ' ' 

The  Consul  interrupted  me  here,  but  I  thought  his 
tones  a  little  less  harsh  than  before: 

"Did  your  uncle  know  of  your  intention  to  enter 
the  palace?" 

"Most  certainly  not,  Citizen  First  Consul,"  I  an 
swered,  "else  had  I  never  accomplished  it." 

"Then  how  did  you  find  your  way  to  my  closeH" 

"I  followed  a  servant  through  some  winding  cor 
ridors,  but  an  officer  suddenly  appeared.  I  fled, 
opened  the  first  door  I  came  to,  saw  myself  in  a  dress 
ing-room,  opened  another,  and  found  myself  in  the 
closet  connecting  with  your  cabinet." 

All  of  which  was  literally  true,  and  implicated 
neither  Gaston  nor  Felice,  I  hoped.  The  Consul 
signed  to  me  to  go  on  with  my  story. 

"All   would  have  been  well,   and  I  should  have 


THE  CONSUL'S  SENTENCE  350 

slipped  out  the  way  I  came,  had  not  the  First  Con 
sul  decided  to  take  a  bath.'* 

I  was  watching  my  auditor  narrowly  as  I  talked, 
for  I  felt  my  life  depended  upon  his  change  of 
mood,  and  I  thought  I  saw  here  the  least  glimmer  of 
a  twinkle  in  his  eye;  but  if  it  was  there  it  was  ban 
ished  instantly,  and  his  face  was  as  set  and  stern 
as  before. 

"I  have  never  heard  any  words,  your" — I  started  to 
say  "your  Majesty,"  caught  myself,  and  stumbled 
miserably— ''your— your— Excellency,  that  filled  me 
with  greater  dismay  than  these :  '  Tell  my  valet  to  pre 
pare  my  bath'!" 

Again  I  thought  I  caught  that  fleeting  twinkle  of 
the  eye,  but  could  not  be  sure. 

"There  was  no  hope  for  me,"  I  went  on,  "but  to 
wait  for  the  First  Consul  to  finish  his  bath;  but,  un 
fortunately  for  me,  he  is  fonder  of  his  bath  than 
most  men,  and  I  stood  in  that  dark  closet  in  an  agony 
of  suspense,  and  revolving  in  my  mind  every  con 
ceivable  plan  of  escape,  for  what  seemed  to  me  many 
long  hours.  All  might  still  have  been  well; — for  in  the 
nature  of  things  even  the  First  Consul's  bath  must 
come  to  an  end  sometime,— had  I  not  made  a  slight 
noise  which  the  quick  ears  of  the  Consul  and  the 
Mameluke  heard.  I  was  discovered,  and  there  was 
nothing  for  me  to  do  but  to  flee  through  the  audi 
ence-chamber  and  the  main  corridor,  surprising  the 
guard  at  the  door,  who,  in  his  turn,  raised  the  whole 
palace  in  pursuit. 

"I  was  distancing  my  pursuers,  and  should  have 


360  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

gotten  out  of  the  palace  without  difficulty,  but  that 
at  the  head  of  the  grand  staircase  I  met  the  Cheva 
lier  Le  Moyne,  running  from  the  opposite  end  of  the 
corridor.  I  would  not  under  ordinary  circumstances 
refuse  a  sword  encounter  with  the  chevalier  (though 
I  would  prefer  an  opponent  with  a  nicer  sense  of 
honor),  but  there  was  no  time  for  such  an  encounter 
now  if  I  would  not  have  the  whole  palace  upon  me, 
and,  besides,  it  was  most  important  that  the  chevalier 
should  not  recognize  me.  There  was  nothing  to  do 
but  to  hide  my  face  with  my  arm  as  if  shielding  it 
from  his  sword,  and  trip  him  up,  as  he  says,  school 
boy  fashion.  I  am  sorry  that  it  should  have  hurt  his 
self-esteem  to  be  vanquished  by  such  a  youthful  trick, 
and  regret  still  more  that  he  should  have  suffered  in 
the  estimation  of  his  fellow-officers  thereby." 

This  time  the  twinkle  in  the  Consul's  eye  was  un 
mistakable,  and  I  could  hear  the  chevalier  grinding 
his  teeth  with  rage. 

"As  for  your  sentry,"  I  continued,  "he  was  aiming 
his  gun  to  fire  at  me.  There  was  no  time  for  ceremony. 
I  could  have  spitted  him  upon  my  sword,  which  was 
in  my  hand,  and  it  might  have  been  more  respectful ; 
but  I  dislike  bloodshed,  unless  it  is  absolutely  un>- 
avoidable,  and  so  I  threw  up  his  gun  with  my  arm, 
and  sent  him  spinning  after  it  in  the  dark.  I  had  left 
my  mare  Fatima— who  is  no  trick  horse,  but  a  young 
Arabian  trained  by  myself  from  colthood  to  do  my  bid 
ding—in  a  pine  thicket  close  by.  I  was  on  her  back 
and  away  just  in  time  to  escape  your  mounted  guards, 
who  thundered  out  the  gates  of  the  park  scarce  twenty 


THE  CONSUL'S  SENTENCE  361 

paces  behind  me.  Had  Fatima  been  less  swift  I  had 
not  been  here  to  tell  the  tale.  I  hope  the  First  Consul 
will  believe  me  when  I  say  I  have  suffered  much  from 
remorse  for  my  rash  and  thoughtless  act.  It  was  a 
wild  spirit  of  adventure  that  led  me  into  it,  but  I  see 
clearly  now  that  does  not  in  the  least  excuse  it,  and 
I  am  ready  to  atone  for  it  in  any  way  you  decree." 

The  eye  of  the  First  Consul,  clear,  piercing,  heart- 
reading,  had  been  upon  me  through  the  whole  of  this 
recital ;  but  I,  feeling  that  I  was  keeping  nothing  back 
(save  only  Gaston  and  Felice),  and  being  nerved  up 
to  meet  whatever  fate  should  befall,  bore  its  scrutiny 
well.  He  was  silent  for  a  moment  after  I  had  finished 
speaking,  and  my  heart  sank  steadily  down,  for  life 
looked  very  bright  to  me  and  I  began  to  be  very  sure  I 
had  forfeited  it  by  my  foolishness.  Suddenly  the  Con 
sul  spoke,  but  it  was  not  to  me  nor  to  the  chevalier ;  he 
turned  to  Pelagie. 

"Mademoiselle,  that  was  a  boyish  escapade,  cer 
tainly,  and  it  was  a  very  pretty  boy  that  contrived 
it.  What  do  you  think  would  be  suitable  punishment 
for  such  a  crime?  You  shall  be  the  arbiter  of  his 
fate." 

Mademoiselle  gave  me  one  fleeting  glance,  saucy 
merriment  dancing  in  her  eye;  then  she  turned  to 
Bonaparte,  and,  curtsying  low,  she  said  with  pretty 
archness : 

"Citizen  First  Consul,  I  know  him  well,  and  I  know 
that  only  death  could  be  a  greater  punishment  to  him 
than  to  be  called  a  'pretty  boy'!  Do  you  not  think 
his  crime  is  atoned  for?" 


362  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Bonaparte's  wonderful  smile  lighted  his  face  and 
fell  on  mademoiselle  with  almost  too  great  sweetness, 
I  thought. 

"It  is  as  you  say,  Mademoiselle, ' '  he  replied.  ' ' Of 
ficer,  you  need  not  call  the  guard/' 

But  I,  suddenly  relieved  from  the  fear  of  death, 
stood  there  scarlet  with  confusion,  head  drooping, 
and  ready  to  sink  through  the  floor  with  shame,  while 
I  mentally  anathematized  my  yellow  curls  and  rosy 
cheeks  and  blue  eyes,  and  most  of  all  my  domtiferous 
vanity  that  had  led  me  to  array  myself  in  shining 
white  satin  and  glittering  gold  lace,  that  I  was  sure 
made  me  look  fairer  and  rosier  and  more  than  ever 
like  a  big  blond  baby. 


CHAPTER    XXIV 


A   NEW    CHEVALIER    OP    FRANCE 

"Our  hopes,  like  towering  falcons,  aim 
At  objects  in  an  airy  height." 


said  Bonaparte,  in  his  iciest  tones, 
'  '  conduct  Citizeness  Capet  and  Citizen  Le  Moyne 
back  to  the  salon.  I  have  something  to  say  to  the 
others  that  it  will  not  be  necessary  for  them  to  hear. 
You  need  not  return  yourself  until  I  ring  for  you." 

Madame  la  Duchesse  glared  at  the  little  figure  lazily 
and  haughtily  reclining  at  ease  in  the  deep-armed 
chair  while  we  all  stood  meekly  before  him.  I  think 
for  a  moment  she  was  tempted  to  spring  upon  him  and 
tear  his  eyes  out.  That  the  parvenu  ruler  of  the  re 
public  should  so  address  a  member  not  only  of  the  old 
nobility  but  the  old  royalty,  was  more  than  she  could 
bear.  A  cool  stare  from  the  fathomless  eyes  of  the 
Consul  made  her  think  better  of  it;  she  turned  and 
accompanied  the  chevalier  (who  was  nigh  to  foaming 
at  the  mouth  with  ill-suppressed  rage)  back  to  the 
salon. 

As  they  left  the  cabinet,  conducted  in  state  by  the 
officer,  Bonaparte  turned  to  Pelagic. 

"  Mademoiselle  la  Comtesse,"  he  said  in  tones  whose 
suavity  were  in  marked  contrast  to  the  coldness  of  his 


364  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

last  speech,  "will  you  not  be  seated?  I  am  sorry 
to  have  kept  you  standing  so  long.  I  have  asked  you 
to  wait  while  I  spoke  to  this  young  man,  because  I 
have  something  more  to  say  to  you  on  the  subject  we 
were  discussing.  I  beg,  therefore,  you  will  make  your 
self  perfectly  comfortable  while  you  wait." 

I  think  Pelagic  was  of  half  a  mind  to  decline  the 
Consul's  courtesy,  for  she  hesitated  a  moment,  and  1 
saw  a  dangerous  spark  leap  into  his  eyes.  I  do  not 
know  whether  she  saw  it  also,  or  whether  she  simply 
decided  it  was  better  to  be  as  complaisant  as  pos 
sible  in  small  matters,  since  she  might  have  to  be 
recalcitrant  in  great  ones.  She  sat  down,  apparently 
cool  and  collected,  but  in  the  chair  most  distant  from 
the  First  Consul.  I  had  noted  the  change  in  the 
form  of  his  address,  and  wondered  at  it ;  but  I  believe 
he  liked  titles,  and  was  glad  to  use  them  when  there 
were  no  jealous  ears  about  to  find  fault  with  his 
lapse  from  republican  simplicity.  He  did  not  ask  me 
to  sit  down,  but  turned  to  me  as  soon  as  Pelagic  had 
taken  her  seat,  and  began  abruptly: 

"I  made  a  proposition  a  few  moments  ago  in  jest; 
I  now  make  it  in  earnest:  I  offer  you  a  position  on 
my  staff  as  military  aide.  The  young  man  who  has 
the  skill  to  extricate  himself  from  such  an  escapade 
as  yours  is  of  the  stuff  I  would  like  to  use  in  my  ser 
vice,  and  when  he  adds  to  his  other  qualities  the  ability 
to  tell  his  story  so  discreetly  that  it  is  impossible  to 
guess  whether  or  not  he  has  heard  anything  of  state 
councils  and  family  quarrels,  he  is  of  still  greater 
value  in  such  a  capacity/7 


A  NEW  CHEVALIER  OF  FRANCE  365 

I  was  overwhelmed.  Lifted  from  the  depths  of  dis 
grace  and  fear  of  death  to  the  pinnacle  of  my  day 
dreams  realized  (for  it  had  ever  been  my  fondest 
dream  to  be  a  soldier  of  fortune,  and  to  serve  under 
the  great  Bonaparte— one  that  I  had  hardly  dared  to 
confess  to  myself)  was  almost  more  than  brain  could 
stand.  More  than  that,  to  hear  such  words  of  com 
mendation  from  the  great  soldier,  when  I  had  ex 
pected  severest  censure,  set  heart  throbbing  and  head 
whirling.  I  could  only  stammer  out : 

"Ic  would  be  the  greatest  joy  and  glory  of  my 
life  to  serve  under  the  First  Consul!  I  shall  have  to 
get  my  uncle's  permission;  may  I  defer  my  answer 
until  I  have  an  opportunity  to  consult  him?" 

The  Consul  frowned  quickly;  I  have  no  doubt  he 
was  used  to  receiving  only  instant  acceptances  of  his 
offers.  But  in  a  moment  his  countenance  cleared,  and 
he  answered,  pleasantly  enough : 

"Very  well;  I  shall  expect  to  hear  from  you  the 
day  after  to-morrow";  and  with  a  slight  nod  from 
him  I  understood  myself  dismissed. 

Somehow  I  liked  not  leaving  Pelagie  there  alone 
with  him,  but  there  was  no  alternative.  I  thought, 
too,  as  I  made  my  low  bow  to  her  in  leaving  the  room, 
that  her  eyes  met  mine  with  a  look  of  appeal  in  their 
dark  depths  it  was  hard  to  withstand.  I  determined 
to  take  my  station  in  the  salon  near  the  cabinet  door, 
so  that  if  she  should  need  me  I  would  be  near  at 
hand. 

And  thus  it  happened  that  a  few  minutes  later 
I  heard  the  Consul's  bell  ring  violently,  saw  the 


366  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

officer  on  duty  enter  the  cabinet  hastily,  and  immedi 
ately  return,  conducting  Pelagie.  Her  eyes  were 
shining  with  a  fierce  light,  a  bright  spot  was  burn 
ing  in  either  cheek,  and  her  head  was  held  so  high 
and  she  was  looking  so  straight  forward  with  an 
unseeing  gaze  that  she  did  not  see  me  as  she  passed. 
I  saw  her  take  her  place  among  the  court  ladies 
and  Madame  Bonaparte  look  at  her  with  cold  dis 
pleasure.  Being  no  longer  on  sentry  duty,  I  joined 
my  aunt,  and  she  whispered  to  me: 

' 'The  pretty  Comtesse  is  in  trouble.  Madame  will 
not  easily  forgive  her  husband  spending  ten  minutes 
alone  with  her  in  his  cabinet." 

My  soul  raged  within  me,  for  I  could  see  that  others 
also  were  whispering  about  her,  and  for  a  moment  I 
was  ready  to  challenge  all  the  world,  including  the 
great  Bonaparte  himself,  who  (though,  I  believed, 
innocently)  had  given  occasion  for  the  whisperings. 
Of  course  I  knew  that  his  interview  with  Pelagie  had 
been  entirely  in  behalf  of  the  chevalier,  but  others  did 
not  seem  to  be  so  certain  of  it,  and  especially  did 
Madame  Bonaparte's  attitude  toward  her  give  rise 
to  unpleasant  comment.  I  longed  eagerly  for  a  word 
with  Pelagie  herself,  but  I  saw  no  chance  of  obtain 
ing  it.  Yet  fortune  favored  me,  for  later  in  the 
evening,  when  they  were  preparing  the  piquet-tables, 
I  found  myself  placed  next  to  her;  and  once,  when  ex 
citement  over  some  disputed  point  in  the  game  was 
running  high,  and  the  din  of  contending  voices  made  a 
friendly  cover  for  a  low-toned  speech,  I  managed 
to  say  to  her : 


A  NEW  CHEVALIER  OF  FRANCE  367 

' '  You  look  troubled,  Mademoiselle ;  is  there  any  way 
in  which  I  can  be  of  service  to  you?" 

She  smiled  up  at  me  with  a  look  of  trust  that 
touched  me  greatly,  and  said  hurriedly,  mentioning 
no  names  (which  might  have  been  dangerous)  : 

"I  wanted  this  chance  to  tell  you.  He  insisted  on 
that  marriage,  and  when  I  told  him  I  would  never 
marry  a  man  who  had  denounced  and  betrayed  in 
such  cowardly  fashion  the  man  to  whom  he  owed  his 
life,  he  was  very  rude  to  me." 

4 'Rude  to  you!"  I  whispered  fiercely.  "Then  I 
cannot  take  service  under  him." 

But  she  looked  greatly  alarmed  when  I  said  that, 
and  whispered  eagerly : 

' '  No,  no,  Monsieur ;  do  not  say  that !  Take  the  place, 
if  you  can,  for  your  own  sake,"— and  then  she  hesi 
tated  a  moment,— "and  for  mine." 

There  was  no  chance  for  another  word;  the  game 
was  breaking  up,  and  the  old  duchess  came  and  carried 
her  off  with  a  glare  of  distrust  and  suspicion  at  me, 
and  I  had  no  doubt  she  had  been  watching  our  whis 
pered  consultation. 

There  was  no  chance,  either,  to  tell  my  uncle  of  my 
interview  with  the  Consul;  for  I  could  say  nothing 
before  my  aunt  without  entering  into  explanations 
that  I  did  not  want  to  make  to  her,  and  I  knew  the  fact 
of  my  returning  to  the  salon  instead  of  being  hurried 
off  to  prison  had  quieted  his  alarms.  The  hour  was 
late,  and  we  said  good  night  to  each  other  in  the 
corridors  when  we  returned  home,  going  at  once  to 
our  rooms. 


368  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

I  hurried  down-stairs  the  next  morning,  hoping  to 
find  my  uncle  taking  his  morning  coffee  in  the  garden, 
as  he  often  did  in  this  lovely  spring  weather;  but  I 
had  overslept,  and  he  was  already  gone.  Late  in  the 
afternoon  I  sought  him  in  his  library,  for  I  knew  my 
answer  to  the  First  Consul  must  be  decided  upon  at 
once,  and  I  was  anxious  to  tell  him  all  about  my 
interview.  He  answered  my  knock  by  a  quick  ' '  Enter, 
enter!"  and  I  found  him  brimming  over  with  gay 
good  humor  and  excitement. 

"You  are  just  in  time,  my  boy,"  he  cried.  "I  am 
expecting  the  American  ambassadors ,  every  moment, 
and,  if  they  offer  no  objection,  you  may  stay  and  see 
how  history  is  made.  We  are  to  sign  the  treaty  that  is 
to  give  the  First  Consul  the  munitions  of  war,  and  that 
will  place  America  in  the  very  front  rank  of  nations. ' J 

My  own  affairs  seemed  of  small  moment  beside  such 
stupendous  ones,  and  I  saw  that  my  uncle  had  entirely 
forgotten  his  alarm  of  the  evening  before.  I  was  my 
self  very  greatly  excited,  for  this  was  the  moment  to 
which  I  had  been  looking  for  nearly  a  year,  though  the 
realization  about  to  be  consummated  was  far  exceeding 
my  wildest  fancies. 

The  two  gentlemen  were  announced  a  moment  later, 
and  they  both  greeted  me  cordially,  for  they  knew  my 
family  at  home  and  I  had  called  on  them  several  times 
in  Paris.  Nor  did  my  uncle  have  to  prefer  a  request 
that  I  should  be  permitted  to  be  a  witness  of  the  sign 
ing  of  the  treaty.  Mr.  Livingston  himself  suggested 
that  I  He  invited  to  remain,  and,  the  others  assenting 
most  cordially,  I  thanked  them  heartily  for  their 


A  NEW  CHEVALIER  OF  FRANCE  369 

courtesy,  and  retired  to  a  seat  in  the  background, 
where  I  might  not  intrude  upon  their  deliberations. 

The  document  seemed  long,  and  in  fact,  as  I  under 
stood  it,  there  were  three  documents— one  which  they 
called  the  treaty,  and  two  others  they  called  "con 
ventions."  They  read  them  all  over  carefully  sev 
eral  times  before  signing,  and  I  heard  the  article  read 
that  I  had  seen  the  First  Consul  write,  and  discov 
ered  that  one  convention  was  to  determine  in  what 
manner  the  sixty  million  francs  were  to  be  paid  to 
France,  and  the  other  convention  was  concerned  with 
the  twenty  million  francs  to  be  paid  by  the  United 
States  to  such  of  its  citizens  as  held  claims  against 
France. 

There  seemed  to  be  some  little  discussions  on  a  few 
minor  points  which  were  easily  settled,  and  then  very 
solemnly  they  each  signed  the  three  documents,  Mr. 
Livingston  writing  his  name  first,  then  Mr.  Monroe, 
and  then  my  uncle.  When  this  was  done,  the  three 
gentlemen,  as  by  a  common  impulse,  rose  to  their  feet 
and  shook  hands,  their  faces  shining  writh  a  solemn 
light  which  I  believe  had  nothing  to  do  with  self -glory, 
but  with  an  unselfish  joy  at  having  accomplished  an 
act  that  would  bring  honor  and  benefit  to  two  great 
nations  and  to  future  generations.  I,  in  my  corner, 
was  almost  as  proud  as  they,  and  quite  as  happy 
(when  I  thought  of  the  honor  that  was  to  come  to 
my  country,  and  especially  the  blessings  to  that  great 
West  I  was  so  interested  in),  and  for  the  first  time  in 
my  life  I  felt  it  might  be  almost  finer  to  accomplish 
such  great  things  by  statesmanship  and  a  stroke  of  the 

24 


370  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

pen  than  to  win  fame  and  glory  by  the  sword.  Then 
I  saw  that  Mr.  Livingston  was  beginning  to  speak. 
He  stood  up  straight  and  tall  and  fine-looking,  and  his 
manner  was  very  impressive  and  full  of  dignity  and 
a  kind  of  solemn  joy.  I  was  very  proud  of  him  as  a 
representative  of  my  country,  and  each  word  that  he 
spoke  made  me  prouder  and  happier. 

"We  have  lived  long,"  he  began,  "but  this  is  the 
noblest  work  of  our  whole  lives.  The  treaty  which  we 
have  just  signed  has  not  been  obtained  by  art  or  dic 
tated  by  force;  equally  advantageous  to  the  two  con 
tracting  parties,  it  will  change  vast  solitudes  into  flour 
ishing  districts.  From  this  day  the  United  States  take 
their  place  among  the  powers  of  the  first  rank.  The 
English  lose  all  exclusive  influence  in  the  affairs  of 
America.  Thus  one  of  the  principal  causes  of  Eu 
ropean  rivalries  and  animosities  is  about  to  cease. 
The  instruments  we  have  just  signed  will  cause  no 
tears  to  be  shed ;  they  prepare  ages  of  happiness  for 
innumerable  generations  of  human  creatures.  The 
Mississippi  and  Missouri  will  see  them  succeed  one 
another,  and  multiply,  truly  worthy  of  the  regard 
and  care  of  Providence,  in  the  bosom  of  equality,  un 
der  just  laws,  freed  from  the  errors  of  superstition 
and  the  scourge  of  bad  government. ' ' 

My  uncle  and  Mr.  Monroe  seemed  greatly  impressed 
by  his  words  (as,  indeed,  no  one  who  heard  them  could 
help  being) ;  and  then  there  was  half  an  hour  of 
pleasant  talk,  in  which  the  three  gentlemen  kindly  in 
cluded  me.  As  the  American  ambassadors  took  their 
leave,  my  uncle  turned  to  me. 


The  Signing  of  the  Louisiana  Purchase  Treaty  by 
Marbois,  Livingston,  and  Monroe 


A  NEW  CHEVALIER  OF  FRANCE  371 

"Well,  my  boy,"  he  said,  his  kind  face  beaming, 
"we  have  settled  the  affairs  of  two  great  nations  most 
satisfactorily;  now  we  will  settle  yours.  What  did 
the  First  Consul  want  of  you  last  evening  ? ' ' 

I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  tell  my  uncle  all  about 
my  acquaintance  with  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit  and  the 
Chevalier  Le  Moyne,  if  he  had  time  to  listen,— for 
otherwise  it  would  be  difficult  to  explain  my  inter 
view  with  the  Consul,  or  how  I  happened  to  be  sum 
moned  to  his  presence,— and  I  asked  him  if  he  had 
time  to  hear  a  long  story.  He  replied  that  he  con 
sidered  he  had  accomplished  enough  for  one  day,  and 
he  should  do  nothing  more,  until  dinner  at  least;  he 
might  possibly  be  summoned  to  an  interview  with  the 
First  Consul  at  the  Tuileries  later  in  the  evening. 

He  scarcely  interrupted  me  through  my  long  re 
cital,  unless  an  occasional  heavy  scowl  at  some  special 
perfidy  of  the  chevalier's  could  be  called  an  interrup 
tion.  He  chuckled  with  delight  when  I  told  how  I 
tripped  up  the  chevalier  on  the  grand  staircase  of  St. 
Cloud,  and  uttered  a  vigorous  "Diable!"  when  he 
heard  how  I  came  to  be  summoned  before  the  First 
Consul.  He  listened  almost  breathlessly  to  my  ac 
count  of  my  interview  with  the  Consul,  and  drew  a 
great  sigh  of  relief  as  I  finished. 

"Why,  my  lad,"  he  said,  "you  have  been  having 
great  experiences!  I  wonder  you  could  forget  them 
sufficiently  to  be  so  deeply  interested,  as  you  seemed 
to  be,  in  the  doings  of  three  old  diplomats." 

I  assured  him  that  what  the  three  diplomats  had 
just  accomplished  was  of  greater  interest  to  me  than 


372  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

any  of  my  own  affairs  could  possibly  be.  In  all  my 
story  I  had  touched  as  lightly  as  I  could  on  the 
Comtesse  de  Baloit,  hoping  that  my  uncle  would  not 
discover  that  I  had  any  special  interest  in  that  direc 
tion  ;  but  he  was  too  astute  a  reader  of  human  nature 
to  be  easily  misled. 

"That  is  all  very  well,"  he  said,  in  reply  to  my  as 
surance  of  a  deeper  interest  in  affairs  of  state  than  in 
my  own ;  ' '  I  do  not  doubt  for  a  moment  that  you  be 
lieve  what  you  say,  and  I  could  easily  believe  it,  too, 
if  it  were  not  for  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit.  Such  af 
fairs  are  more  engrossing  than  all  others  in  the  world, 
if  I  remember  my  own  youthful  days  aright.  But  I 
had  no  idea  the  wind  sat  in  that  quarter,  as  your  Mr. 
Shakspere  would  say.  Have  you  any  idea  how  high 
you  are  aspiring?  I  know  you  Americans  stop  at 
nothing;  but,  my  dear  boy,  you  might  as  well  aspire 
to  the  hand  of  the  Princess  Charlotte  of  England!" 

"I  am  aspiring  to  the  hand  of  no  one,  sir,"  I  an 
swered  rather  hotly,  for  I  knew  so  well  how  hopeless 
any  dreams  of  mine  might  be  that  I  liked  not  to  have 
any  one  think  I  was  cherishing  false  hopes.  "What 
ever  my  feeling  toward  the  Comtesse  may  be,  I  have 
never  had  the  slightest  hope.  If  Citizeness  Capet,  as 
the  First  Consul  calls  her,  does  not  succeed  in  marrying 
the  comtesse  to  the  Chevalier  Le  Moyne,  then  her  cou 
sins  the  Comte  d'Arbois  and  the  Due  d'Enghien  will 
probably  marry  her  into  one  of  the  reigning  houses 
of  Europe.  Mademoiselle  la  Comtesse  has  shown  me 
some  kindness,  but  only  such  as  any  right-feeling 
young  maiden  would  show  to  one  who  has  been  able  to 


A  NEW  CHEVALIER  OF  FRANCE  373 

do  her  some  little  service,  and  I  am  not  one  to  presume 
upon  her  grateful  feeling." 

My  uncle  looked  at  me  for  a  moment  with  a  little 
frown  between  his  brows,  as  if  he  were  trying  to 
solve  some  perplexing  question,  and  then  the  frown 
cleared  away  and  he  spoke  smilingly : 

"Well,  well,  we  will  dismiss  the  Comtesse;  that 
is  too  difficult  a  problem.  And  now  for  what  is,  after 
all,  a  question  of  more  practical  importance.  Do  you 
want  to  accept  this  offer  of  the  First  Consul's V 

"Very  'r^Teh,  sir/'  I  answered  eagerly. 

"I  doubt  whether  I  have  any  right  to  give  you  per 
mission  to  do  so,"  responded  my  uncle;  "but  this 
much  authority  I  will  assume.  If  the  First  Consul 
is  willing  to  take  you  subject  to  the  commands  of  your 
father  when  we  can  hear  from  him,  I  will  give  my 
permission,  and  I  will  write  to  your  father  by  the 
first  packet.  It  will  be  ten  or  twelve  weeks  before  we 
can  possibly  hear  from  him,  and  it  may  be  much 
longer.  But  I  am  rather  relieved  that  you  desire  to  ac 
cept  the  First  Consul's  offer.  He  does  not  like  his 
favors  rejected,  and  he  is  quite  capable  of  holding  me 
responsible  for  having  influenced  you,  should  you 
decline." 

The  First  Consul  was  willing  to  take  me  on  those 
conditions  (I  think  he  felt  no  doubt  of  my  father's 
answer;  such  confidence  had  he  in  the  magnetism  of 
his  own  name  that  he  believed  any  man  would  feel 
proud  to  have  his  son  serve  under  him),  and  a  very 
few  days  saw  me  arrayed  in  my  glittering  uniform 
and  spending  every  spare  moment,  when  I  was  off 


374  THE  ROSE   OF   OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

duty,  riding  up  and  down  the  Champs-Elysees  in  the 
hope  not  so  much  of  seeing  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit  as 
of  being  seen  by  her.  For  I  felt  that  half  the  joy  I 
had  in  my  gorgeous  trappings  would  be  gone  if  she 
could  not  see  them  and  admire  them  too. 

And  as  my  sword  clanked  and  my  spurs  jingled 
while  Fatima  pranced  and  curveted  under  me  in  the 
bright  spring  weather,  my  heart  sang  an  accompani 
ment  to  them. 

Could  it  be  possible  that  the  great  Bonaparte  might 
turn  the  rest  of  his  speech  from  jest  to  earnest? 
Would  he,  perhaps,  now  that  he  had  made  me  his 
aide,  trust  her  to  me  as  willingly  as  to  the  chevalier? 

And  higher  still  sang  my  heart  as  Fatima,  in  answer 
to  my  excited  touch,  leaped  and  bounded  along  the 
avenue,  and  I  remembered  that  night  upon  La  Belle 
Riviere  when  mademoiselle  had  wished  that  I  was  a 
chevalier  of  France.  Was  I  not  one  now  in  fact,  if  not 
in  name  t 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE    COMTESSE    DE    BALOIT    SENDS    FOB    HER    HUNTER 

' '  Take  a  straw  and  throw  it  into  the  air ;  you  may  see  by  that 
which  way  the  wind  is." 

A/L  my  riding  up  and  down  the  Champs-Elysees 
was  like  to  have  been  for  naught.  We  had  re 
ceived  orders  to  be  in  readiness  to  start  on  the  morrow 
for  Belgium,  where  Bonaparte  was  to  make  his  head 
quarters  while  preparing  for  war  with  England,  and 
still  I  had  not  seen  the  comtesse,  and  she  had  not  seen 
my  beautiful  regimentals. 

My  packing  was  done,  my  last  arrangements  made, 
most  of  my  good-bys  said;  there  was  nothing  left  to 
do  but  to  take  my  last  ride  down  the  avenue.  And 
this  time  not  in  vain !  There  she  sat  in  her  gorgeous 
coach  of  scarlet  and  gold  with  the  footmen  and  coach 
men  in  dazzling  liveries  of  gold  lace  and  scarlet  plush, 
and  beside  her,  not  the  stern  duchesse  this  time,  but  a 
younger  woman  who  looked  as  if  she  might  be  a  less 
formidable  guardian. 

She  saw  me,  though  for  a  moment  she  did  not  recog 
nize  me  in  my  new  and  gaudy  plumage.  When  she 
did,  her  eager  look  of  welcome  more  than  repaid  me 
for  my  fruitless  rides  up  and  down  the  avenue.  She 

375 


376  THE  ROSE   OF   OLD   ST.  LOUIS 

signaled  to  her  coachman  to  stop,  and  with  a  pretty 
little  peremptory  gesture  summoned  me  to  her  side. 
She  seemed  to  have  no  fear  of  the  lady  beside  her,  and 
no  doubt  she  was  merely  a  paid  companion,  for  she  ig 
nored  her  entirely,  or  noticed  her  presence  only  by 
using  English  when  she  had  anything  of  serious  im 
port  to  say. 

«  'T  is  Fatima  I  wish  to  see,  sir, ' '  she  said  as  I 
drew  up  by  her  coach,  my  hat  tucked  under  my  arm. 
She  put  out  her  little  hand  and  gently  stroked  the 
white  star  on  Fatima  '&  forehead,  and  the  mare  whin 
nied  softly  and  rubbed  her  nose  against  the  little 
gloved  hand  as  if  to  say,  "I  remember  you  well;  those 
were  famous  rides  we  had  in  old  St.  Louis." 

"And  'tis  you  I  wish  to  see,"  I  responded  boldly. 
""I  have  been  looking  for  you  for  many  days;  why 
have  you  deserted  the  Champs-Elysees  ? ' ' 

She  looked  up  at  me  quickly,  as  if  pleased  with  the 
audacity  of  the  first  part  of  my  speech,  but  as  I  fin 
ished  with  my  question  she  dropped  her  eyes  and 
seemed  embarrassed.  In  a  moment  she  spoke  in  a  A>W, 
•constrained  voice,  and  in  English : 

"My  aunt  and  I  have  had  misunderstandings.  She 
wishes  me  to  appear  in  public  with  a  man  I  do  not 
like.  In  Paris  that  means  fiance*.  I  will  stay  in  my 
hotel  with  headaches  rather  than  ride  on  the  avenue 
beside  him ! ' '  with  sudden  fire.  Then  she  added  with 
an  attempt  at  her  old  lightness : 

"But  I  must  drive  on.  Should  it  be  reported  to 
madame  that  I  stopped  to  talk  to  Monsieur,  I  might 
liave  to  suffer  for  it. ' ' 


THE  COMTESSE  SENDS  FOR  HER  HUNTER    37T 

A  sudden  horror  seized  me. 

''Mademoiselle,  they  do  not  use  force?"  I  cried. 
"You  are  not  held  a  prisoner?" 

"No— not  yet,"  she  said  slowly. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  looking  steadily  into  her 
eyes,  * '  I  have  tried  to  see  you  to  say  good-by ;  I  leave 
Paris  to-morrow. ' ' 

I  saw  her  go  suddenly  white,  but  in  a  moment  she 
spoke  very  calmly,  and  in  French : 

"Do  you  go  back  to  America,  Monsieur?" 

"No,  to  Belgium  with  the  First  Consul:  to  Ant 
werp,  I  believe. ' ' 

I  spoke  also  in  French,  but  added  in  English : 

"Mademoiselle,  if  you  need  me,  I  will  not  go  to 
Belgium ;  I  will  resign. ' ' 

She  shook  her  head. 

"No;  I  am  sorry  you  are  going,  but  I  would  not 
have  you  resign.  The  First  Consul  is  vindictive,  they 
say;  should  you  reject  his  favors,  he  may  remember 
your  St.  Cloud  offense." 

"I  care  not  for  that !"  And  then  I  added  moodily,, 
"They  will  compel  you  to  marry  him." 

She  threw  up  her  head  in  much  the  same  fashion 
Fatima  throws  up  hers  when  she  scents  conflict  in  the 
distance. 

"They  cannot  coerce  me!"  she  said  proudly,  and 
then  she  added,  half  playfully,  half  defiantly: 

"They  tell  me  I  have  royal  blood;  they  shall  see  I 
know  how  to  use  my  royal  prerogative."  She  held 
out  her  hand  to  me  and  spoke  again  in  French : 

"Good-by,  Monsieur,  and  bon  voyage!" 


378  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

I  bent  low  over  her  hand. 

"Let  me  stay,  Mademoiselle,"  I  whispered. 

* '  What !  and  lose  your  beautiful  uniform !  'T  is 
too  severe  a  test  of  friendship.  No,  no,  Monsieur," 
with  the  old  mocking  laugh.  But  before  I  had  time  to 
resent  her  teasing  speech,  her  mood  had  changed.  She 
leaned  far  out  of  the  carriage  and  threw  her  beautiful 
.arm  over  Fatima's  arching  neck. 

"Good-by,  Fatima,"  she  cried— "dear,  dear  Fa- 
tima ! ' '  And  as  Fatima,  in  answer  to  her  caress,  drew 
-closer  to  her,  she  dropped  a  light  kiss  on  her  soft  muz 
zle,  leaned  back  in  her  carriage  with  a  signal  to  the 
coachman,  and  rolled  away. 

The  weeks  that  followed  were  in  some  respects  the 
strangest  weeks  of  my  life,  and  often  in  memory 
they  return  to  me  as  a  confused  dream.  War  had 
been  declared  with  England,  and  in  Antwerp,  in 
Dunkirk,  on  the  Loire,  in  every  little  bay  and  inlet 
that  indented  the  coast  from  Brest,  where  a  great 
squadron  was  gathered,  to  Boulogne,  where  another 
was  getting  together,  ships  were  building  of  every 
kind:  floating  fortresses  of  wood,  light  pinnaces  and 
yawls  for  carrying  the  swift  van  of  an  army,  and 
heavy  barges  for  the  impedimenta  of  war.  A  mighty 
flotilla,  gathering  from  the  Scheldt  to  the  Garonne, 
from  Toulon  and  Rochefort  to  Calais  and  Antwerp,  to 
bear  a  vast  invading  army  to  the  shores  of  England. 

In  constant  communication  with  the  great  captain, 
I  yet  saw  little  of  him,  for  day  and  night  I  was  kept 
riding  over  the  green  fields  of  France,  through  the 


THE  COMTESSE  SENDS  FOR  HER  HUNTER   37S 

beautiful  May  and  June,  carrying  orders,  sometimes 
to  little  inland  streams  where  tiny  yawls  were  build 
ing,  sometimes  to  great  city  dockyards  where  mighty 
ships  were  on  the  stays.  And  though  these  were  not 
the  deeds  of  valor  I  had  dreamed  of,  I  began  to  real 
ize  what  a  wonderful  mind  was  planning  all  these 
wide-spread  activities,  and  to  understand  that  a  great 
captain  must  be  something  more  than  a  good  fighter, 
and  prowess  on  the  field  of  battle  was  not  all  that 
was  required  of  a  soldier. 

Yet  I  began  to  long  for  the  din  and  stir  of  conflict 
and  to  see  my  hero,  as  in  dreams  I  had  often  seen  him, 
calm  and  unmoved,  'midst  smoke  and  carnage,  direct 
ing  with  unerring  genius  masses  of  men,  infantry, 
cavalry,  artillery,  through  the  mazes  of  battle;  or 
himself  leading  a  resistless  charge,  sword  extended, 
waving  his  men  forward  to  victory  and  glory. 

So  when  an  old  officer  who  had  seen  many  wars  told 
me  he  had  no  doubt  it  would  be  two  years  before  the 
preparations  for  war  were  finished  and  war  actually 
begun,  my  heart  sank  within  me.  Two  years  of  hard 
work  day  and  night  and  no  glory !  To  be  aide  to  the 
First  Consul  was  not  what  I  had  dreamed  of,  and  my 
thoughts  turned  longingly  back  to  Paris  and  the  Com- 
tesse  de  Baloit.  All  the  more  did  my  thoughts  turn 
in  that  direction  because  the  Chevalier  Le  Moyne,  who 
was  also  on  the  general's  staff,  had  been  for  some 
weeks  absent  from  headquarters.  I  always  studiously 
avoided  him  if  we  happened  to  be  in  quarters  at  the 
same  time,  and  so  I  did  not  at  first  miss  him;  but 
when  day  after  day  and  even  weeks  passed  without 


380  THE  ROSE  OF   OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

liis  reporting  at  mess,  I  began  to  be  greatly  troubled. 
My  imagination  pictured  him  as  back  in  Paris  urging 
his  suit  to  Pelagic,  and  I  feared  greatly,  either  that 
she  would  at  last  yield  to  his  importunities,  seeing  no 
way  of  escape,  or  that  some  trouble  would  come  to  her 
if  she  persistently  scorned  him. 

In  the  midst  of  my  anxieties  a  letter  was  brought 
me  from  home.  The  ten  weeks  were  up  when  I  could 
begin  to  expect  an  answer  to  my  uncle's  letter  asking 
my  father's  permission  for  me  to  take  service  under 
Bonaparte,  and  I  tore  it  eagerly  open,  hardly  know 
ing,  since  hostilities  would  be  so  long  delayed,  whe 
ther  I  most  hoped  that  it  would  contain  his  permission 
or  his  refusal.  In  my  haste  I  had  not  noticed  that  it 
was  not  my  father's  writing  on  the  outside,  and  that 
made  it  the  greater  shock  to  find  within,  in  my  mo 
ther's  dearly  loved  penmanship,  only  these  few  words : 

"Your  father  is  very  ill;  come  home  at  once." 

I  had  never  known  my  father  to  be  ill  even  for  a 
day.  I  knew  this  must  be  no  ordinary  illness  to  cause 
•so  brief  and  so  peremptory  a  summons  home,  and  all 
my  world  seemed  suddenly  topsy-turvy. 

I  loved  my  father,  but  I  had  been  much  away  from 
home,  in  school  at  Princeton,  and  in  my  short  vaca 
tions  I  had  found  him  somewhat  cold  and  stern  in 
manner;  so  that  my  love  for  him  was  more  of  rever 
ence  and  honor  than  the  tender  affection  I  felt  for 
my  beautiful  mother.  None  the  less  was  my  heart 
torn  with  anguish  at  the  thought  of  what  might  befall 
in  the  long  weeks  before  I  could  possibly  reach  his 
«ide,  and  how  vainly  I  wished  that  I  had  been  a  better 


THE  COMTESSE  SENDS  FOE  HER  HUNTER    381 

son,  and  shown  him  more  of  the  love  that  was  really 
in  my  heart  for  him. 

There  was  no  time  to  be  lost,  and  my  first  duty  was 
to  seek  the  First  Consul  and  show  him  my  letter.  He 
was  more  kind  and  considerate  than  I  could  have  ex 
pected. 

"You  have  my  sincerest  sympathy,"  he  said. 
"There  is  no  question  as  to  your  course.  Your  first 
duty  is  to  your  father.  I  am  sorry  to  lose  my  officer 
whom  I  have  found  even  more  efficient  than  I  had 
expected  and  for  whom  I  predicted  great  glory  as 
soon  as  actual  war  should  commence.  But  it  may  be 
possible  you  will  find  your  father  entirely  recovered 
on  your  arrival  at  home ;  in  that  case,  and  should  you 
have  his  permission  to  return,  your  old  position  will 
be  open  to  you. ' ' 

I  hardly  knew  how  to  thank  him  suitably  and  to  ex 
press  my  regret  at  leaving  his  service,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  I  did  it  awkwardly  enough.  As  I  was  leaving 
the  room  he  called  me  back. 

"Will  you  go  to  Paris  before  you  sail?" 

There  was  nothing  in  the  question  to  make  me  blush 
and  stammer,  yet  I  did  both. 

"I  must  sail  on  the  earliest  packet,  sir,"  I  said; 
"but  if  one  is  not  sailing  immediately  I  would  like 
your  permission  to  return  to  Paris  and  settle  my  af 
fairs  there  and  say  good-by  to  my  aunt  and  uncle. ' ' 

"It  is  no  doubt  the  wiser  course,"  replied  Bona 
parte.  "In  sailing  from  Antwerp  you  are  liable  to- 
fall  into  the  hands  of  the  English  in  passing  the 
Straits  of  Dover.  From  Paris  you  can  find  a  ship  sail- 


382  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

ing  from  Le  Havre  carrying  the  American  flag.  It 
will  be  safer,  and  you  will  save  time  in  going  by  Paris. 
Should  you  decide  to  do  so,  I  shall  have  a  commis 
sion  to  intrust  to  you. ' ' 

Since  the  First  Consul  advised  it,  I  decided  on  the 
moment,  and  an  hour  later,  saddle-bags  packed,  my 
man  CaBsar  holding  his  own  horse  and  Fatima  at  the 
door,  I  was  ready  to  start,  only  awaiting  the  Consul  ?s 
commission.  An  officer  rode  up  and  handed  me  a 
packet. 

''From  General  Bonaparte,  sir/'  he  said;  and  as  I 
opened  my  saddle-bags  to  put  the  packet  away  for 
safe  keeping,  my  eye  caught  the  directions  on  the 
wrapper. 

1  'To  be  delivered  to  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit,  Fau 
bourg  St.  Germain." 

The  sight  of  the  inscription  gave  me  only  pleasure, 
and  I  was  tempted  to  think  that  the  Consul  had  de 
vised  this  commission  especially  to  give  me  an  oppor 
tunity  of  seeing  the  comtesse.  It  seemed  to  me  an 
evidence  of  wonderful  delicacy  of  feeling  and  thought- 
fulness  for  others  on  the  part  of  the  great  general,  and 
I  could  not  sufficiently  admire  him  or  be  grateful 
to  him.  There  was  no  question  but  that  his  commis 
sion  would  be  faithfully  executed  the  very  first  possi 
ble  moment  after  my  arrival  in  Paris. 

It  was  early  morning,  the  dew  still  on  the  hedges 
and  the  lark  still  singing  his  matins,  as  we  entered  the 
city  with  a  stream  of  market-carts  bringing  in  fresh 
fruits  and  vegetables  and  flowers  for  the  early  morn 
ing  markets.  Only  working-people  were  in  the  streets : 


THE  COMTESSE  SENDS  FOR  HER  HUNTER    383 

men  going  to  their  day's  labor,  blanchisseuses  with 
their  clothes  in  bundles  on  their  heads,  cooks  and 
maids  of  all  work  with  their  baskets  on  their  arms 
going  to  the  market  for  the  day's  supply  of  food  for 
the  family. 

Crossing  the  Place  de  la  Bastille,  a  man  on  horse 
back  rode  up  beside  us  and  gave  us  good  day.  He 
had  evidently  come  in  with  the  country  folk  and  was 
himself  without  doubt  a  small  market-gardener,  for 
the  loam  of  the  garden  was  on  his  rough  cowhide  boots 
and  his  blue  smock  was  such  as  a  countryman  wears. 
I  thought  at  first  there  was  something  strangely  fa 
miliar  in  his  face,  and  then  I  remembered  I  had  seen 
him  the  evening  before  at  the  little  country  inn, 
twenty  miles  out  from  the  city,  where  we  had  spent 
the  night.  He,  like  us,  must  have  started  at  early 
dawn  to  reach  the  city  by  seven  o'clock,  very  like  for 
the  same  reason— to  take  advantage  of  the  cool  of  the 
day;  and  like  us  also,  he  must  have  had  a  very  good 
horse  to  make  that  distance  in  that  time.  I  glanced  at 
his  horse  as  the  thought  occurred  to  me,  and  saw  that 
it  was  indeed  a  good  horse.  Coal-black,  except  for 
a  white  star  on  his  forehead  and  one  white  stocking, 
he  was  powerfully  built,  and  yet  with  such  an  easy 
stretch  of  limb  as  promised  speed  as  well  as  endur 
ance.  I  thought  it  a  little  strange  that  a  country 
farmer  should  own  a  horse  of  such  points  and  breed 
ing  as  this  one  showed  itself  to  be,  and  perhaps  my 
thought  appeared  in  my  face,  for  the  countryman  an 
swered  it. 

"  'T  is  a  fine  horse,  Monsieur,  is  it  not?"  he  said. 


384  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

I  noticed  that  he  spoke  with  a  very  slight  lisp,  but 
that  otherwise  both  his  language  and  his  intonations 
were  better  than  I  could  have  expected. 

"Yes,"  I  said.    "Did  you  breed  him  yourself?" 

"Not  exactly,"  he  answered,  "but  he  was  bred  on 
an  estate  belonging  to  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit,  where 
I  work,  and  I  have  helped  to  train  him." 

He  must  have  seen  my  irrepressible  start  when  he 
mentioned  Pelagic 's  name,  for  he  looked  at  me  curi 
ously  with  something  like  either  alarm  or  suspicion 
in  his  glance.  I  was  tempted  to  tell  him  that  I  knew 
his  mistress  and  expected  to  see  her  that  very  day,  but 
I  was  saved  from  making  such  a  foolish  speech  by  the 
fellow  himself. 

"I  am  bringing  him  into  the  city  for  the  comtesse 
to  try,"  he  said.  "He  is  a  very  fine  hunter." 

' '  Then  your  mistress  intends  to  follow  the  chase  ? ' ' 
I  asked,  feeling  a  queer  little  pang  that  I  did  not  stop 
to  explain  to  myself  at  the  thought. 

"I  suppose  so,  Monsieur,  since  she  has  sent  for  her 
hunter." 

We  were  now  well  down  the  Rue  de  la  St.  Antoine, 
just  where  the  narrow  street  of  Frangois-Miron  comes 
in;  and  as  if  a  sudden  thought  had  struck  him,  the 
countryman  said : 

"  I  go  this  way,  Monsieur ;  adieu, ' '  turned  into  the 
narrow  street,  and  Cassar  and  I  rode  on  into  the  Rue 
de  Rivoli,  past  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  and  so  toward  my 
uncle 's  house. 

"Marsa,"  said  Caesar,  as  we  turned  off  the  Rue  de 
Rivoli,  "dat  fellah  had  a  gold  belt  and  a  little  dagger 


THE  COMTESSE  SENDS  FOR  HER  HUNTER    385 

stuck  in  it  under  his  smock.  I  seed  it  when  I 's  ridin ' 
behind  youse  bof  and  de  win'  tuk  and  blew  up  his 
smock-skirt." 

I  believed  the  "gold  belt"  and  the  "little  dagger" 
were  inventions  of  Caesar's,  for  he  loved  to  tell  won 
derful  tales ;  but  none  the  less  was  I  uneasy  and  trou 
bled,  for  suppose  it  should  be  true!  I  liked  not  the 
thought  of  a  man  wearing  a  concealed  weapon  going 
on  a  plausible  errand  to  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 


"  Hope  tells  a  flattering  tale, 

Delusive,  vain,  and  hollow. 
Ah !  let  not  Hope  prevail, 
Lest  disappointment  follow." 

NOT  many  hours  later  saw  me  seeking  admit 
tance  to  the  stately  but  dilapidated  hotel  of  the 
Comtesse  de  Baloit  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain.  I 
was  determined  to  see  Pelagic,  and  if  possible  alone,  so 
I  sent  up  word  that  a  messenger  from  the  First  Con 
sul  desired  to  see  Mademoiselle  la  Comtesse  on  busi 
ness  of  importance.  I  feared,  should  I  send  up  my 
own  name,  that  the  duchesse  would  not  permit  her  to 
see  me,  but,  had  I  known  it,  I  could  have  sent  no 
message  less  likely  to  win  Pelagie's  consent  to  an  in 
terview.  It  was  only  through  a  lurking  suspicion  of 
whom  the  messenger  might  be  that  she  consented  to 
see  me. 

I  was  ushered  into  a  room  very  luxuriously  fur 
nished,  but  in  which  everything  had  an  air  of  faded 
grandeur— as  if  belonging  to  another  age.  The  tapes 
tries  were  not  only  faded  but  rapidly  growing  thread 
bare,  and  the  gold  of  the  buhl  furniture  was  peeling 

386 


THE  CONSUL'S  COMMISSION  387 

off  in  strips,  and  in  tables  inlaid  with  fine  mosaics 
many  of  the  stones  were  wanting.  All  this  lack  of 
care  or  evidence  of  poverty  rather  surprised  me,  re 
membering  the  magnificent  coach  and  gorgeously  liv 
eried  servants  I  had  twice  seen  on  the  avenue.  Then 
I  recalled  what  I  had  often  heard  since  coming  to 
Paris,  that  the  nobility  of  the  old  regime  would  starve 
and  go  cold  at  home  to  make  the  display  in  public  they 
considered  befitting  their  dignity.  It  seemed  very  sad 
to  me,  and  I  wondered  if  it  could  be  because  mademoi 
selle  did  not  have  enough  to  eat  that  she  had  seemed 
of  late  to  be  growing  thin  and  pale.  To  me,  who  am 
both  somewhat  of  an  epicure  and  a  valiant  trencher 
man  (and  remembering  the  abundance  she  had  been 
used  to  in  America),  nothing  could  seem  more  pitiful 
than  to  think  of  my  little  Pelagie  as  going  hungry. 

Yet  when,  in  a  few  minutes,  she  came  in,  radiantly 
beautiful  in  some  Frenchy  flowing  gown  of  pale  rose- 
color  and  much  soft  lace  and  ribbons,  no  one  could 
think  of  her  as  hungry  or  poverty-pinched  in  any 
way,  but  only  as  some  wonderful  fairy  queen  who 
dined  on  peacocks '  tongues  and  supped  on  nectar  and 
ambrosia. 

She  was  greatly  surprised  to  see  me;  I  think  she 
thought  of  me  as  a  kind  of  Daniel  venturing  into  the 
lion's  den.  But  the  old  lioness,  the  duchesse,  was  not 
with  her,  only  the  same  companion  I  had  seen  in  the 
carriage  on  the  Champs-Elysees,  and  I  felt  once  more 
that  fate  smiled  on  me.  It  meant  much  to  me,  for  I 
knew  not  whether  I  should  ever  see  her  again,  and  I 
longed  greatly  to  have  a  few  minutes'  untrammeled 


388  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

conversation  with  her,  such  as  I  had  often  had  in  St. 
Louis  in  those  days  that  seemed  so  far  away. 

Perhaps  my  eyes  dwelt  too  eagerly  upon  her.  I 
never  could  quite  remember  how  beautiful  she  was 
when  I  was  away  from  her,  and  so  every  time  I  saw 
her  I  was  dazzled  afresh.  This  time,  too,  I  was  trying 
to  fasten  every  lovely  curve  of  cheek  and  throat,  and 
glowing  scarlet  of  lips,  and  shadowy  glory  of  dark  eyes 
and  waving  hair,  and  witching  little  curls  about  white 
brow  and  neck,  yes,  and  every  knot  of  lace  and  ribbon, 
so  firmly  in  my  mind  that  I  might  always  have  the 
beautiful  picture  to  look  on  when  there  was  no  longer 
any  hope  of  seeing  again  the  bright  reality. 

So  absorbed  was  I  in  fixing  fast  in  memory  every 
little  detail  of  the  bright  picture  that  I  think  I  must 
have  forgot  my  manners :  it  was  only  seeing  the  long 
lashes  on  the  rose-tinted  cheek  that  brought  me  to 
myself.  I  bent  low  over  her  hand  and  then  put  into 
it  the  packet  the  First  Consul  had  intrusted  me  to  give 
to  her. 

"For  me?  From  the  First  Consul ?"  she  said,  in 
slow  surprise. 

"Yes,"  I  said;  "and  when  you  have  opened  it, 
Mademoiselle,  then  I  crave  a  few  minutes'  speech  with 
you." 

I  turned  and  walked  to  one  of  the  windows  and 
stood  looking  down  into  the  courtyard  where  Caesar 
was  holding  our  horses,  that  mademoiselle  might  ex 
amine  its  contents  unobserved. 

I  knew  not  what  was  in  the  package  nor  the  con 
tents  of  the  note  that  accompanied  it,  but  somehow  I 


THE  CONSUL'S  COMMISSION  389 

had  had  a  feeling  (perhaps  because  the  First  Consul 
had  seemed  so  kind  in  his  manner  at  our  last  inter 
view,  or  perhaps  only  because  my  hopes  pointed  that 
way)  that  the  Consul's  note  was  to  use  his  influence 
with  her  in  my  behalf,  as  he  had  once  used  it  for  the 
chevalier.  Therefore  as  I  stood  with  my  back  to  her, 
looking  down  into  the  courtyard,  my  eyes  saw  not 
what  they  were  looking  at,  for  they  were  filled  with  a 
vision  of  future  happiness  and  I  was  trembling  with 
the  beauty  of  the  vision. 

"Monsieur!"  I  turned  quickly,  for  the  voice  was 
cold  and  hard,  and  it  fell  on  my  heart  like  the  sleet  of 
early  spring  falling  on  opening  buds  to  chill  them  to 
death.  And  when  I  turned,  the  Pelagic  that  met  my 
gaze  was  the  Pelagic  I  had  first  seen  in  Mr.  Gratiot's 
house :  eyes  blazing  with  wrath,  little  teeth  close  set 
between  scarlet  lips,  and  little  hands  tightly  clenched. 
My  heart  froze  at  the  sight.  Could  the  Consul's  plea 
for  me  have  been  so  distasteful  to  her  ? 

"Monsieur,"  she  repeated,  every  word  a  poniard, 
"how  did  you  dare  bring  me  such  a  message!" 

I  found  no  words  to  answer  her,  for  if  the  message 
was  what  I  had  hoped,  then  I  began  to  wonder  how 
I  had  dared,  though  my  spirit,  as  proud  as  hers, 
Brooked  not  that  she  should  take  it  as  an  insult.  But 
she  did  not  wait  for  any  answer. 

"You!"  she  said,  with  inexpressible  bitterness. 
"Has  wearing  the  First  Consul's  uniform  so  changed 
you  from  the  American  gentleman  I  once  knew  that 
you  delight  to  humiliate  a  poor  and  helpless  lady 
of  France?" 


390  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"Mademoiselle  la  Comtesse,"  I  said  coldly,  for  still 
the  foolish  idea  clung  to  my  brain  that  the  First  Con 
sul  had  wished  to  further  my  suit,  and  that  mademoi 
selle  had  regarded  it  as  humiliating  that  I  should  so 
presume,  "I  know  not  the  contents  of  the  First  Con 
sul's  note,  but  I  think  la  Comtesse  knows  I  would 
never  willingly  humiliate  her." 

"You  know  not!"  and  she  half  extended  the  note 
toward  me,  as  if  to  show  it  to  me,  and  then  drew  it 
quickly  back,  a  sudden  change  in  her  manner  from 
proud  anger  to  shrinking  shame.  She  turned  to  her 
companion  and  said  in  a  cool  tone  of  command : 

"You  may  wait  for  me,  Henriette,  in  the  blue  salon ; 
I  have  something  to  say  to  Monsieur." 

Henriette  seemed  to  hesitate.  No  doubt  in  France 
it  was  not  permitted  to  see  a  young  gentleman  alone, 
or  perhaps  Henriette  had  instructions  from  the  du- 
chesse  to  be  ever  on  guard  when  she  herself  could  not 
be  present.  Mademoiselle  saw  her  hesitation. 

"Go!"  she  said  haughtily,  and  I  believe  no  being 
on  earth  would  have  dared  disobey  that  ringing  tone 
of  command.  Henriette  shrank  from  it,  and  as  she 
hastened  to  obey,  mademoiselle  added  in  a  gentler 
tone: 

' '  You  may  return  in  five  minutes. ' ' 

As  she  left  the  room,  mademoiselle  turned  quickly 
to  me,  as  if  to  lose  no  moment  of  the  few  she  had  given 
herself. 

"Monsieur,"  she  said,  and  her  manner  was  the  man 
ner  of  the  old  Pelagic,  "I  hope  you  will  forgive  me 
for  supposing  for  a  moment  that  you  knew  the  con- 


THE  CONSUL'S  COMMISSION  391 

tents  of  the  First  Consul's  note.  I  cannot  show  it  to 
you,  but  I  am  going  to  place  a  great  trust  in  you. 
Monsieur,  I  cannot  stay  longer  in  France.  Between 
the  duchesse,  the  chevalier,  and  the  First  Consul,  I 
will  be  driven  to  marry  the  chevalier,  or— worse.  Ah, 
Monsieur,  if  I  had  never  left  St.  Louis !" 

She  had  spoken  hurriedly,  as  if  fearing  to  lose  cour 
age  otherwise,  but  she  looked  not  at  me  as  she  spoke, 
and  her  face  was  dyed  with  painful  blushes.  A  hor 
rible  suspicion  of  the  contents  of  that  note  almost 
froze  my  blood,  but  the  next  thought,  that  mademoi 
selle  must  fly  from  France,  sent  it  rushing  hotly 
through  my  veins. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  cried  impetuously,  "go  home 
with  me  to  America. ' ' 

I  saw  her  turn  pale  and  draw  herself  up  proudly. 
I  did  not  dream  she  could  misunderstand  me:  I  only 
thought  she  scorned  so  humble  a  suitor.  And  the 
thought  set  fire  to  a  pride  that  was  equal  to  her  own. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said  sternly,  "I  cannot  set  you 
upon  a  throne  nor  place  a  crown  upon  your  head,  but 
in  America  the  wife  of  an  honorable  gentleman  is  a 
queen  always,  his  heart  is  her  throne,  his  home  is  her 
kingdom,  his  love  is  her  crown. " 

To  my  amazement,  she  was  all  soft  and  drooping 
and  rosy  and  smiling.  I  was  ready  to  pick  her  up  and 
fly  with  her  that  moment,  so  adorable  was  she  in  this 
mood,  but  she  would  not  let  me  come  near  her. 

"Monsieur,"  she  said,  looking  up  at  me  most 
sweetly,  "to  be  the  wife  of  an  honorable  American 
gentleman,  it  seems  to  me,  would  be  great  happiness; 


392  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

but  you  have  not  your  father's  permission  to  marry: 
he  would  not  thank  you  for  bringing  home  an  emigre 
bride." 

There  came  to  me  a  sudden  vision  of  my  stern  fa 
ther.  He  would  certainly  think  that  was  a  matter  on 
which  he  should  be  first  consulted.  He  was  capable 
of  making  it  very  unpleasant  for  my  wife  should  I 
bring  one  home  unannounced,  and  if  he  did  not  cut  me 
off  with  a  shilling,  he  might  easily  put  me  on  so  small 
an  allowance  as  would  make  it  impossible  for  me  to 
maintain  her  in  the  luxury  suited  to  her  position.  I 
would  be  glad  to  work  for  her,  early  and  late,  but  I 
knew  nothing  about  earning  my  own  bread,  and  while 
I  was  learning  to  earn  hers  she  might  suffer  for  the 
comforts  of  life. 

Mademoiselle  was  quick  to  see  my  embarrassment, 
and  I  suppose  her  pride  was  touched,  for  when  she 
spoke  it  was  with  her  old  hauteur. 

"It  is  very  kind  of  Monsieur  to  think  of  offering  me 
a  refuge,  but  my  plans  are  made." 

I  hardly  heard  her,  for  I  was  busy  with  my  own 
thoughts.  I  interrupted  her  eagerly: 

"Mademoiselle,  let  me  take  you  back  to  St.  Louis 
and  put  you  in  Dr.  Saugrain  's  care ;  then  I  will  make 
all  necessary  arrangements  with  my  father  and  come 
for  you." 

"You  did  not  understand  me,  Monsieur,"  she  an 
swered  coldly;  "my  plans  are  made:  I  am  going  to 
my  cousin  the  Due  d'Enghien." 

"The  Due  d'Enghien !"  I  repeated,  in  a  dazed  fash 
ion.  Had  I  not  heard  that  her  cousin  would  marry 


THE  CONSUL'S  COMMISSION  393 

her  into  one  of  the  royal  families  of  Europe?  This, 
then,  was  the  knell  to  all  my  hopes!  This  was  the 
reason  she  answered  me  so  coldly:  there  was  some 
thing  better  in  store  for  her  than  to  be  the  wife  of  a 
simple  American  gentleman. 

Well,  I  had  never  cherished  any  hopes;  had  I  not 
told  both  my  uncle  Francois  and  the  First  Consul  so  ? 
Ah,  but  had  I  not?  Had  not  every  moment  since  I 
had  first  known  her  been  a  fluctuation  between  hope 
and  despair?  I  had  told  the  First  Consul  she  had 
not  given  me  any  reason  to  hope;  but  had  she  not? 
Did  she  not  seem  a  few  minutes  ago  almost  willing  to 
become  the  wife  of  an  American  gentleman?  What 
had  changed  her  mood? 

While  I  was  trying  to  collect  my  scattered  thoughts, 
she  spoke  again,  hurriedly  : 

"I  am  telling  you  this  in  great  confidence,  Mon 
sieur,  because  I  can  trust  you.  No  one  must  know — 
least  of  all,  any  one  in  this  house." 

For  a  moment  I  could  not  speak.  I  turned  away  to 
the  window  and  looked  down  once  more  into  the  court 
yard  with  unseeing  eyes.  But  it  was  no  beautiful 
vision  of  the  future  that  dimmed  their  gaze  this  time : 
it  was  the  black  darkness  of  despair  that  blinded  them 
like  a  pall. 

Then  I  made  a  great  resolve.  The  Comtesse  de  Ba- 
loit,  the  Bourbon  princess,  was  not  for  such  as  I; 
but  to  mademoiselle,  to  my  little  Pelagic,  I  might  still 
be  loyal  friend  and  offer  devoted  service.  I  turned 
toward  her  again. 

''Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "I  will  go  with  you  to  the 


394  THE  ROSE   OF   OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Due  d'Enghien.  I  will  never  leave  you  until  I  see 
you  safe  under  the  protection  of  your  cousin. ' ' 

"What!  The  young  officer  of  the  First  Consul 
aiding  and  abetting  an  emigre  who  flees  from  the 
First  Consul!  It  is  rank  treason,  Monsieur!"  and 
Pelagie  smiled  with  something  of  her  old  merry  rail 
lery. 

"I  am  no  longer  an  aide,  Mademoiselle/'  I  said 
seriously.  ' '  I  have  been  called  home  by  the  illness  of 
my  father,  and  General  Bonaparte  has  relieved  me 
from  duty." 

Her  quick  sympathy  was  sweet  to  see  and  to  feel, 
but  I  did  not  dare  linger  in  its  warmth,  for  the  five 
minutes,  I  knew,  must  be  nearly  up. 

"Now,  Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "since  I  am  no  longer 
in  service  to  the  First  Consul,  there  will  be  no  treason 
in  helping  you  in  your  flight—" 

But  she  interrupted  me:  "No,  Monsieur,  it  is  not 
necessary ;  the  Prince  de  Polignac  has  made  every  ar 
rangement  and  will  see  me  safe  to  my  cousin. ' ' 

"The  Prince  de  Polignac!"  I  exclaimed,  in  sur 
prise.  "But  he  is  in  exile,  and  almost  as  much  under 
the  First  Consul's  ban  as  Cadoudal  himself;  how  can 
he  help  you?" 

In  my  astonishment  that  she  should  think  of  rely 
ing  upon  Polignac,  whose  life  I  believed  would  be  for 
feit  if  he  dared  to  enter  Paris,  I  had  unconsciously 
spoken  his  name  with  raised  voice.  We  had  heretofore 
been  speaking  almost  in  whispers  for  fear  of  a  possi 
ble  listener.  As  I  uttered  his  name  Pelagie  started 
and  looked  nervously  toward  the  door  of  the  blue  salon. 


THE  CONSUL'S  COMMISSION  395 

"I  beg  you  to  be  careful,  Monsieur, "  she  said  anx 
iously.  ' '  As  you  say,  his  life  would  be  forfeit  if  any 
one  suspected  his  presence  in  Paris.  I  do  not  know 
that  he  is  here,  but  I  am  hourly  expecting  to  hear 
from  him.  There  is  no  one  in  the  world  I  would  have 
trusted  this  secret  to  but  you,  and  I  am  relying  on 
your  discretion  as  well  as  your  honor. ' ' 

I  bowed  my  thanks,  grateful  for  her  confidence  and 
ashamed  of  the  indiscretion  that  might  so  easily  have 
betrayed  her  secret.  But  I  had  not  gained  my  point. 

"You  will  let  me  help  in  this  flight,  too,  Mademoi 
selle?  It  is  a  great  peril  you  are  undertaking,  and 
one  more  sword,  whose  owner  will  lightly  risk  his  life 
for  you,  cannot  come  amiss. ' ' 

But  she  only  shook  her  head  and  whispered,  "It  is 
impossible,"  and  at  that  moment  Henriette  entered 
the  room. 

"Mademoiselle  la  Comtesse,"  she  said  timidly  (I 
fear  Pelagie  must  have  been  at  times  something  of  a 
little  tyrant,  to  make  her  companion  stand  in  such 
awe  of  her),  "I  have  stayed  away,  not  five  minutes, 
but  ten.  I  come  to  remind  you  that  the  hour  has  ar 
rived  at  which  Madame  la  Duchesse  returns. ' ' 

"Thanks,  my  good  Henriette/'  said  Pelagie, 
sweetly;  "it  is  true,  and  I  Lad  forgotten  it." 

She  turned  quickly  to  me:  "You  must  go  at  once, 
Monsieur !  It  is  much  better  the  duchesse  should  not 
find  you  here." 

"And  can  I  not  see  you  again?  Shall  I  never  see 
you  again?"  I  asked  eagerly,  in  English. 

"No,  no!    Do  not  try— I  will  send  word,"  she  an- 


396  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

swered,  also  in  English,  and  then  put  out  her  hand. 
"Go,  Monsieur,"  she  said  in  French,  "and  farewell!" 

I  took  her  hand  and  bent  low  over  it. 

"Farewell,  Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  for  it  cut  me  to 
the  quick  that  she  had  not  said  "Au  revoir,"  as  she 
had  said  it  on  La  Belle  Riviere. 

Down  in  the  courtyard,  in  the  act  of  throwing  my 
leg  over  Fatima's  back,  there  rode  under  the  arch  of 
the  entrance  the  countryman  who  had  overtaken  us 
in  the  morning,  leading  the  magnificent  horse  he  had 
said  was  for  Mademoiselle  la  Comtesse,  and  riding  an 
other.  It  was  not  strange  that  he  should  be  bringing 
mademoiselle  her  hunter,  but  it  struck  me  as  some 
what  strange  that  the  moment  he  caught  sight  of  me 
a  quick  scowl  should  darken  his  brow  and  as  quickly 
be  cleared  away :  as  if  it  had  come  unbidden  and  been 
driven  away  from  a  sense  of  expediency.  As  I  passed 
him  on  the  way  out  he  touched  his  cap  to  me  politely, 
and  the  sleeve  of  his  rough  jerkin  falling  away  a  little 
in  the  act,  I  thought  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  lace  wrist- 
ruffle. 

"Perhaps  Caesar  was  not  mistaken,  after  all,"  I 
said  to  myself;  "if  he  wears  lace  ruffles  at  his  wrist  he 
may  well  wear  a  gold  belt  and  poniard  at  his  waist. 
A  strange  countryman,  forsooth ! ' '  And  a  secret  un 
easiness  that  I  could  neither  explain  nor  dismiss  re 
turned  to  me  as  often  as  he  came  into  my  thoughts. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

' '  GOOD-BY,  SWEETHEART  ! ' ' 
u  I  have  found  out  a  gift  for  my  fair." 

rilHERE  was  nothing  to  keep  me  in  Paris.  I  could 
JL  not  see  mademoiselle;  she  would  not  let  me 
help  her  in  her  flight.  I  was  restless  and  impatient  to 
be  off.  No  boat  would  sail  from  Le  Havre  for  nearly 
a  week.  It  would  not  take  a  week  eitner  by  horse, 
as  Caesar  and  I  would  go,  or  by  the  river,  where  my 
baggage  was  to  be  floated  down  in  a  small  yawl 
in  the  charge  of  a  trusty  boatman.  But  if  I  stayed 
in  Paris  I  would  be  eating  my  heart  out;  it  was  bet 
ter  to  be  on  the  way  and  taking  the  route  by  slow 
stages. 

So  I  made  the  plea  to  my  aunt  and  uncle  that  I 
feared  some  unforeseen  delay  might  cause  me  to  miss 
my  ship,  and  with  feverish  haste  I  made  all  arrange 
ments  for  departure  that  very  night.  To  my  aunt  my 
impatience  seemed  only  natural.  She  herself  was 
greatly  distressed  at  the  news  of  my  father's  illness, 
and  would  have  accompanied  me  to  America  if  it  had 
been  possible. 

My  first  act  on  reaching  home  after  leaving  made 
moiselle  had  been  to  tear  off  my  gorgeous  uniform, 

397 


398  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

with  such  a  mingling  of  loathing  and  regret  as  rarely 
comes  to  a  man.  If  my  suspicions  of  the  contents  of 
mademoiselle's  note  were  correct,  then  I  could  not 
quickly  enough  rid  myself  of  every  emblem  of  the 
allegiance  I  had  once  owed  to  the  First  Consul.  And 
yet  when  I  remembered  his  invariable  kindness  to  me, 
the  magnanimity  he  had  shown  for  what  must  have 
seemed  to  him  criminal  eavesdropping,  the  tender 
ness  of  heart  I  had  seen  displayed  more  than  once,  the 
wonderful  powers  of  the  man,  master  alike  of  the 
arts  of  peace  and  war,  the  idolatry  in  which  his  sol 
diers  held  him  and  in  which  I  had  hitherto  shared,  my 
heart  lamented  bitterly  that  its  idol  should  have  been 
so  shattered. 

Since  we  had  time  to  spare  and  it  was  now  the  me 
ridian  of  summer,  I  had  decided  to  use  only  the  cool 
of  evening  and  the  early  morning  hours  for  travel,  as 
much,  I  think,  for  the  sake  of  sparing  Fatima  as 
Caesar  and  myself.  Our  first  stage  was  to  be  to  the 
same  little  inn,  twenty  miles  out,  which  we  had  left 
only  that  morning  to  come  into  the  city.  It  was  not, 
perhaps,  on  the  most  direct  route  to  Le  Havre,  but  a 
large  part  of  the  way  would  lead  through  the  forests 
of  Montmorency  and  Chantilly  and  would  be  pleasant 
riding,  and  the  inn  was  almost  the  cleanest  and  most 
comfortable  of  its  kind  I  had  found  in  France.  My 
weeks  under  Bonaparte  bearing  messages  to  every 
little  river  big  enough  to  build  a  boat  upon  had  taught 
me  the  roads  well ;  all  this  northern  France  was  like 
an  open  book  to  me  and  I  would  find  no  difficulty  in 
cutting  across  from  the  forest  of  Chantilly  to  the 


"GOOD-BY,  SWEETHEART!"  399 

banks  of  the  Seine,  if  I  preferred  to  follow  its  wind 
ings  to  Le  Havre. 

So  the  long  shadows  of  the  late  afternoon  saw  us 
riding  under  the  Porte  St.  Martin ;  at  sunset  we  were 
passing  the  hoary  Basilique  of  St.  Denis,  tomb  of  the 
kings ;  through  the  long  twilight  we  skirted  the  forest 
of  Montmorency;  and  by  moonrise  we  were  entering 
the  forest  of  Chantilly.  Not  more  beautiful  by  early 
dawn  and  dew  had  been  this  ride,  than  it  was  through 
lengthening  shadows,  and  violet  glow  of  sunset,  and 
silvery  light  of  moon,  the  peaches  ripening  on  sunny 
walls,  and  the  odors  of  mint  and  sweet-smelling  herbs 
rising  through  the  gathering  damps  of  evening,  the 
birds  singing  their  vesper  songs,  and  in  the  deep  for 
est  glades  the  lonely  nightingale  pouring  out  his  soul 
to  the  moon. 

Yet  my  heart  was  heavier.  On  my  long  ride  from 
Antwerp,  with  the  buoyancy  of  youth,  I  had  passed 
through  all  the  phases  from  anguished  fear  to  the  al 
most  certitude  of  hope,  and  I  had  entered  Paris  feel 
ing  sure  that  I  would  find  my  father  well  again  when 
I  should  reach  America.  I  had  entered  Paris  also  joy 
ous  with  the  thought  of  seeing  mademoiselle  once 
more,  and  with  the  unconfessed  hope  that  the  budget 
I  was  bearing  from  the  great  Bonaparte  might  be  the 
means  of  bringing  me  the  crowning  happiness  of  my 
life.  I  was  leaving  it  now  with  one  word  ringing  in 
my  ears  as  the  death-knell  to  all  my  hopes— Farewell ! 

The  hour  was  still  early  and  my  inn  but  a  little 
way  off  on  the  western  borders  of  the  forest ;  I  would 
make  a  little  detour  and  see  the  chateau  and  park  and 


400  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

still  be  not  too  late  for  a  good  supper  and  a  comfor 
table  night's  rest.  I  left  the  "old  road"  (which 
crossed  the  forest  directly)  at  the  Carre  four  de  la 
Table,  where  twelve  roads  met  in  an  open  circular 
space  surrounding  a  great  stone  table.  From  there  I 
took  one  leading  straight  to  the  Grille  d'Honneur_ 
We  crossed  a  little  bridge  that  spanned  the  moat,  and 
looking  down  into  its  waters,  we  heard  the  splash  of 
the  ancient  carp  that  filled  it.  Then  through  the  Grille 
d'Honneur  and  between  two  stone  dogs  at  the  foot  of 
the  slope  that  led  up  to  the  ruins  of  the  Grande 
Chateau.  There  I  drew  rein  and  looked  over  the 
beautiful  domain. 

At  my  right  was  the  ruined  chateau ;  in  front  of  me 
the  chatelet,  in  perfect  preservation,  apparently  float 
ing  on  the  bosom  of  a  silvery  lake  that  entirely  sur 
rounded  it.  Beyond  were  the  famous  stables  of  the 
Great  Conde,  holding  two  hundred  and  sixty  horses 
in  his  lifetime.  Beside  them  was  the  chapel,  and 
everywhere  a  network  of  basins  and  canals  gleaming 
white  under  the  flooding  moonlight.  At  my  back  were 
the  gloomy  towers  of  the  Chateau  d'Enghien,  built  to 
house  the  guests  of  the  Condes  who  overflowed  the 
Grande  Chateau  and  the  chatelet;  and  beyond  was  a 
mass  of  rich  foliage  belonging  to  the  Park  of  Sylvie. 

As  I  gazed  a  thousand  thoughts  crowded  into  my 
mind.  This  was  the  home  of  mademoiselle 's  ancestors ;. 
it  should  now  be  the  home  of  the  Due  d'Enghien ;  per 
haps  when  mademoiselle  came  into  her  own  it  would 
be  hers.  No  doubt  in  these  very  parks  she  had  played 
in  infancy.  Generations  of  grandeur,  of  princely 


"GOOD-BY,  SWEETHEART!"  401 

splendor,  were  behind  her.  How  had  I  dared  to 
dream  of  her !  How  had  I  dared  to  think  she  would 
stoop  to  my  lowly  rank ! 

I  gave  Fatima's  bridle  to  Caesar  and  told  him  to 
wait  for  me  while  I  walked  down  the  green  slope  into 
the  Park  of  Sylvie.  Enchanting  vistas  opened  before 
me,  the  moonlight  filtering  through  arched  canopies  of 
foliage  just  enough  to  show  me  the  way.  Old  tales  of 
the  Duchesse  "Sylvie'7  and  the  poet-lover,  condemned 
to  death,  whom  she  had  hidden  in  this  park  and  its 
little  chateau  floated  through  my  mind  strangely  min 
gled  with  dreams  of  a  later  daughter  of  Montmorency. 

And  then  suddenly  I  came  upon  something  that  for 
a  moment  I  almost  believed  to  be  a  continuation  of  my 
dreams.  I  had  turned  to  my  right  and  a  new  vista 
had  opened  before  me,  closed  by  the  little  "Chateau 
of  Sylvie."  On  the  wide  lawn  before  it,  half  hidden 
by  the  shadow  of  the  chateau,  half  in  the  broad  moon 
light,  was  a  strange  group:  a  carriage  and  what 
seemed  to  me  many  horses  and  many  men.  I  thought 
for  a  moment  I  had  landed  upon  a  nest  of  bandits 
•such  as  might  easily  infest  a  forest  like  this,  and  it 
would  behoove  me  to  steal  silently  back  to  the  horses 
and  make  good  my  escape ;  but  I  caught  a  glimpse  of 
petticoats :  they  were  not  bandits ;  they  must  be  Gip 
sies. 

Then  as  I  gazed  there  stepped  out  into  the  full 
moonlight  a  man  leading  a  powerful  black  horse  with 
one  white  stocking  and  a  white  star  in  his  forehead.  I 
heard  the  man  call  some  brief  order  to  some  one  in  the 
shadow,  and  there  was  a  slight  lisp  in  his  voice.  In 

26 


402  THE  EOSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

a  moment  I  understood  it  all,  although  the  man  was 
no  longer  wearing  a  countryman 's  coat,  but  the  livery 
of  a  gentleman's  servant.  It  was  Pelagie  and  her 
party  fleeing  to  Baden  and  the  Due  d'Enghien! 

I  knew  not  whether  I  would  be  a  welcome  guest  or 
an  intruder,  but  I  knew  I  was  not  going  to  miss  this 
opportunity  of  seeing  Pelagie  once  more.  I  stepped 
out  boldly  from  under  the  shadows  of  the  trees  into 
the  moonlight,  and  in  so  doing  came  near  losing  my 
life.  There  was  the  click  of  a  lock  and  the  flash  of  a 
gun-barrel  in  the  countryman's  hands. 

1  'Don't  shoot,  Monsieur,"  I  cried;  "it  is  a  friend." 

There  was  a  short,  sharp  cry,  half  suppressed,  and 
Pelagie  came  running  out  of  the  shadow,  both  hands 
extended  and  her  face  glowing  in  the  moonlight. 

' '  Is  it  you,  Monsieur  ? ' '  she  cried.  ' l  How  came  you 
here?" 

I  suppose  I  answered  her  in  some  fashion.  I  know 
I  took  her  hands  in  mine  and  looked  down  into  her 
beautiful  eyes,  but  I  know  not  what  I  said.  She  was 
wearing  the  cap  and  apron  and  simple  gown  of  a 
lady's  waiting-maid,  and  as  she  saw  me  look  curiously 
at  it  she  said,  with  the  shrug  of  her  pretty  little  shoul 
ders  that  I  had  learned  to  know  so  well  in  St.  Louis: 

"It  is  a  fright,  is  it  not,  Monsieur?  But  I  am  no 
longer  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit:  I  am  Susanne,  the 
maid  of  Madame  du  Bois,  with  whom  I  am  traveling. ' ' 

Her  voice  had  the  happy  ring  of  a  child's,  as  if  she 
were  glad  to  be  free,  even  if  only  for  a  time,  from  the 
cares  of  rank  and  position;  or,  perhaps  more  truly, 
glad  to  be  away  from  the  surveillance  of  the  duchesse, 


u  Pelagie  came  running  out  of  the  shadow, 
both  hands  extended  " 


"GOOD-BY,  SWEETHEART!"  403 

happy  that  she  need  no  longer  fear  the  chevalier  and 
the  First  Consul.  I  longed  to  think  that  a  part  of  the 
gladness  was  in  seeing  me  once  more  so  unexpectedly ; 
but  I  knew  this  was  only  my  foolish  vanity,  and  I 
steadied  my  brain  by  saying  over  to  myself,  ' '  She  is  a 
princess  of  Conde  in  her  ancestral  home ;  you  are  only 
the  son  of  a  plain  American  gentleman."  So  I  made 
her  such  a  speech  as  I  would  have  made  to  a  princess 
of  Conde. 

"If  Mademoiselle  were  not  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit 
I  could  wish  she  were  always  Susanne  the  maid  of 
Madame  du  Bois.  'T  is  a  bewitching  costume." 

It  was,  and  she  knew  it,  as  I  could  see  by  her  dan 
cing  eyes  and  the  smile  (that  she  vainly  tried  to  sup 
press)  playing  hide-and-seek  with  the  roses  in  her 
cheek  as  I  spoke.  Being  a  man,  I  could  not  name  each 
article  of  her  costume ;  but  what  I  saw  was  a  vision  of 
little  ringlets  escaping  from  under  a  coquettish  cap, 
dainty  ankles  that  the  short  blue  skirt  did  not  pretend 
to  hide,  a  snowy  apron  that  almost  covered  the  blue 
skirt,  and  a  handkerchief  demurely  crossed  over  the 
beautiful  shoulders. 

She  turned  quickly,  as  if  to  escape  my  gaze,  and 
called  to  the  countryman :  "Monsieur  le  Prince,  this  is 
the  friend  of  whom  I  have  spoken ;  I  want  him  to  meet 
the  Prince  de  Polignac." 

The  prince  came  forward  at  once;  and  as  we 
grasped  each  other's  hands  and  looked  into  each 
other's  eyes,  I  think  he  knew  that  he  need  no  longer 
regard  me  with  suspicion,  and  I  knew  that  here  was  a 
to  whom  I  could  trust  even  Pelagic. 


404  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

We  laughed  a  little  over  our  first  meeting,  and  I 
told  him  how  C«esar  had  detected  his  weapon;  and 
then  out  of  the  shadows  came  other  figures :  Henriette, 
to  whom,  as  her  mistress,  Madame  du  Bois,  Pelagie 
gaily  presented  me;  a  man  in  the  costume  of  a  well- 
to-do  bourgeois,  whom  they  called  Monsieur  du  Bois, 
but  who,  Pelagie  whispered  to  me,  was  the  prince's 
trusted  body-servant;  and  Clotilde,  whom  I  had  not 
seen  since  I  had  seen  her  on  La  Belle  Riviere,  and  who 
wept  at  the  sight  of  me,  a  tribute  to  the  memory  of 
other  days.  Last  of  all  there  came  out  of  the  shadows 
my  burly  host  of  last  night's  inn.  He  had  brought 
over  to  the  little  chateau  a  relay  of  fresh  horses  and  a 
hamper  of  supper.  All  arrangements  had  been  made 
at  his  inn  the  night  before  by  the  Prince  de  Polignac 
in  the  guise  of  a  countryman ;  for  careless  Boniface  as 
my  host  had  seemed  to  be,  he  was  devotedly  attached 
to  his  old  masters,  the  Bourbon  princes,  and  could  be 
trusted  to  the  death. 

It  amazed  me  greatly  that  they  should  have  accom 
plished  this  journey  in  a  shorter  time  than  I,  and  still 
more  that  they  should  have  succeeded  in  getting  safely 
out  of  Paris  with  so  large  a  party,  and  I  so  expressed 
myself  to  the  prince. 

"It  had  been  all  carefully  planned,  Monsieur, "  he 
told  me.  "My  man,  'Monsieur  du  Bois,'  had  a  trav 
eling-carriage  waiting  at  a  little  house  near  the  Porte 
St.  Denis,  where  an  old  servitor  of  the  family  lives. 
He  had  passports  made  out  for  Madame  and  Monsieur 
du  Bois  from  New  Orleans,  traveling  with  their  negro 
servant  Clotilde,  and  with  a  maid  Susanne,  and  a  man 


"GOOD-BY,  SWEETHEART!"  405 

Francois.  Mademoiselle  la  Comtesse  arranged  to  try 
her  hunter  at  three  o'clock  in  the  Bois,  accompanied 
by  her  companion,  Henriette  (who  in  these  few  weeks 
has  become  devotedly  attached  to  the  comtesse),  and 
by  the  countryman  who  had  brought  her  the  horse  and 
understood  him  more  thoroughly  than  a  groom  from 
the  stables  of  the  duchesse  would  have  done.  At  the 
same  hour  the  negro  maid  of  the  comtesse  strolled  out 
into  a  quiet  street  at  the  rear  of  the  hotel,  where  she 
was  met  by  my  man  and  conducted  to  the  little  house 
near  the  Porte  St.  Denis.  At  a  little  before  four  we 
had  all  gathered  there;  by  half-past  four  the  trans 
formation  had  been  made  and  we  were  leaving  the 
house,  Madame  du  Bois  and  her  two  maids  in  the  car 
riage,  Monsieur  du  Bois  on  the  comtesse 's  hunter,  I 
on  my  own  horse  and  leading  the  one  Henriette  had 
riddenv  We  had  arranged  to  meet  Pierre  here  with 
fresh  horses  and  provisions,  and  spend  half  an  hour 
in  changing  horses,  resting,  and  supper.  Your  unex 
pected  appearance,  Monsieur,  has  alarmed  me.  I  had 
thought  the  Park  of  Sylvie  sufficiently  secluded  to 
insure  us  secrecy,  but  if  you  have  found  it,  others  may 
whom  we  would  be  less  glad  to  see,  and  I  think  I  will 
form  my  little  company  into  marching  order  at  once. 
The  comtesse  is  taking  it  all  as  a  grand  adventure; 
lier  spirits  have  risen  with  every  step  away  from 
Paris :  that  is  the  princely  blood  of  Conde  that  loves 
deeds  of  daring,  and  I  would  not  say  a  word  to 
dampen  her  ardor;  but  we  know,  Monsieur,  it  is  a 
serious  matter,  and  so,  though  our  half-hour  is  not 
quite  up,  I  think  I  will  order  the  advance." 


406  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"You  are  quite  right,  Monsieur  le  Prince,"  I  re 
plied.  "My  man  is  waiting  for  me  with  our  horses  in 
the  Court  d'Honneur;  will  you  permit  me  to  ride  a 
little  way  with  you?" 

The  prince  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  in  his 
courtliest  manner  he  replied  to  my  request : 

"I  am  sure  Monsieur  will  not  misunderstand  me 
when  I  say  nothing  could  give  us  greater  pleasure  if 
it  seemed  safe.  But  Monsieur's  size  and — appear 
ance,  ' '  with  a  bow  and  a  smile  flattering  no  doubt,  but 
discouraging,  "have  made  him  well  known  in  France. 
Moreover,  Monsieur's  friendship  for  the  comtesse 
(which  does  him  honor)  is  known  also,  and  should  a 
pursuing  party  make  inquiries  along  the  road,  and 
should  our  party  be  described  with  you  in  attendance, 
I  fear  they  will  be  able  to  identify  us  at  once." 

"I  understand,  Monsieur  le  Prince,"  I  answered, 
much  crestfallen.  And  then  into  my  slow  brain  there 
popped  another  question. 

"But  will  not  the  negro  maid  Clotilde  betray  you 
also?" 

"Monsieur  is  very  astute,"  answered  the  prince. 
"He  has  touched  upon  our  weak  point,  and  I  am  going 
to  prove  my  friendly  regard  for  Monsieur  by  asking 
of  him  a  great  service.  We  could  not  leave  the  ne- 
gress  behind  in  Paris :  the  comtesse  would  not  stir  one 
step  without  her,  fearing  that  she  would  be  very  un 
happy,  if  not  come  to  want  and  suffering  in  a  strange 
city.  All  the  way  from  Paris  I  have  been  revolving 
plans  in  my  mind  as  to  how  best  to  separate  her  from 
our  party.  I  had  thought  of  letting  Pierre  take  charge 


"GOOD-BY,  SWEETHEART!"  407 

of  her,  but  that  would  not  do ;  for  should  she  be  dis 
covered,  that  would  make  Pierre  'suspect,'  and  he 
would  be  thrown  into  prison  for  aiding  and  abetting 
the  flight  of  the  comtesse,  and  it  would  be  a  clue  to 
trace  us.  When  I  saw  you,  Monsieur,  I  said,  'There 
is  a  way  out  of  our  dilemma.  If  Monsieur  will  take 
Clotilde  back  with  him  to  America,  we  are  safe/  ' 

Joy  filled  my  heart  that  I  was  at  last  to  be  allowed 
to  do  something  for  the  comtesse. 

"Gladly,  Monsieur!"  I  exclaimed;  "and  it  can  be 
very  easily  arranged.  We  will  strike  across  country 
to  Pontoise  and  the  forest  of  St.  Germain,  and  head 
off  my  boatman.  He  was  to  tie  up  for  the  night  at  a 
little  village  near  Marly-le-Roi.  I  will  find  him  there 
and  put  Clotilde  in  his  wife's  care.  His  wife  accom 
panies  him,  for  the  voyage  and  to  cook  his  meals." 

The  prince's  gratitude  seemed  to  me  incommensu 
rate  with  so  small  a  service,  and  so  I  told  him.  And 
then  another  difficulty  suggested  itself  to  me. 

"Monsieur  le  Prince,"  I  said,  "I  recognized  you 
from  the  hunter  of  Mademoiselle  la  Comtesse ;  will  not 
perhaps  others  also  ? ' ' 

"I  have  thought  of  this,  Monsieur,"  he  said;  "but 
it  seemed  even  more  difficult  to  arrange  than  the  other. 
It  is  necessary  that  the  comtesse  should  have  a  swift 
and  powerful  horse,  for  if  we  are  pursued,  she  and 
I  will  take  to  our  horses  and  leave  the  others  to  shift 
for  themselves.  I  had  thought  of  asking  Pierre  to  try 
to  find  another  as  good  as  this  (though  for  speed  and 
endurance  I  do  not  believe  he  has  his  equal  in  France) , 
but  even  then  I  should  not  know  what  to  do  with  this 


408  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS  , 

one.  I  could  not  give  him  to  Pierre :  that  again  would 
bring  him  under  suspicion.  I  should  have  to  shoot 
and  bury  him.  However,  it  is  too  late  now  to  make 
the  change ;  we  will  even  have  to  take  the  risk." 

"Monsieur,"  I  said  slowly,  for  willingly  as  I  would 
make  any  sacrifice  for  mademoiselle,  even  to  my  life, 

I  could  not  lightly  do  that  which  I  was  about  to  do— 

II  Monsieur,  I  have  a  horse  who  for  speed  and  endur 
ance  has  hardly  her  equal  in  the  whole  world.     She 
knows  Mademoiselle  la  Comtesse  well  and  will  do  her 
bidding  as  she  does  mine.    I  will  change  horses  with 
you.    The  comtesse  shall  have  my  chestnut  mare  and 
I  will  take  her  black  beauty." 

The  prince  did  not  know  that  this  was  a  far  greater 
sacrifice  on  my  part  than  taking  charge  of  Clotilde 
had  been,  yet  he  knew  a  man  loves  his  own  mare  well, 
and  in  so  far  he  appreciated  the  service  and  thanked 
me  for  it. 

But  the  matter  of  separating  Clotilde  from  her  mis 
tress  had  to  be  broached  to  mademoiselle,  and  the 
prince  begged  me  to  undertake  the  difficult  task.  All 
the  time  while  the  prince  and  I  had  been  holding  our 
conversation  together  aside  from  the  others,  she  had 
been  exploring  the  purlieus  of  the  little  chateau  with 
frequent  exclamations  of  delight,  not  one  of  which 
fell  unheeded  on  my  ears,  although  I  was  deep  in  con 
sultation.  Now  she  came  running  up  to  me  joyously. 

"Monsieur,  Monsieur,"  she  exclaimed,  "I  have 
found  the  little  arbor  where  I  used  to  take  my  dolls 
and  play  at  housekeeping !  Ah,  how  well  I  remember 
it !  How  often  I  have  thought  of  it !  And  how  little 


"GOOD-BY,  SWEETHEART!"  40a 

I  ever  expected  to  see  it  again ! ' '  and  her  eyes  were  as 
bright  and  as  soft  as  the  waters  of  the  little  lake 
stretching  from  our  feet  to  the  Grille  d'Honneur  and 
shining  in  the  misty  moonlight.  I  knew  how  quickly 
those  eyes  could  change  from  dewy  softness  to  light 
ning  flashes,  and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  I 
plunged  into  my  subject  with  nervous  haste. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said  (and  I  thought  the  prince 
liked  not  the  lack  of  formality  in  my  address),  "the 
Prince  de  Polignac  has  assigned  to  me  an  unpleasant 
duty;  it  is  to  tell  you  that  we  find  it  necessary  for 
your  safety  to  take  away  Clotilde. ' ' 

Perhaps  I  was  too  abrupt;  at  any  rate,  much  as  I 
had  expected  a  tempest  I  was  not  prepared  for  the  tor 
nado  that  ensued. 

"Take  away  my  Clotilde!"  she  interrupted. 
"Never!  never!  never!"  And  then  there  followed 
a  torrent  of  tears  mingled  with  reproaches  as  she 
threw  herself  upon  Clotilde 's  breast— the  breast  she 
had  wept  upon  since  she  was  a  babe  of  six.  But  Clo 
tilde 's  cries  were  stormier  than  her  mistress's:  she  lit 
erally  lifted  up  her  voice  and  wept.  The  prince  was 
the  picture  of  distress  and  dismay:  there  was  danger 
that  the  sound  of  weeping  might  penetrate  to  un 
friendly  ears.  Mademoiselle  in  tears  was  ever  more 
formidable  to  me  than  an  army  with  banners,  but 
there  was  no  help  for  it;  I  took  my  courage  in  my 
hand. 

"Mademoiselle  la  Comtesse,"  I  said  sternly,  "you? 
are  causing  the  Prince  de  Polignac  great  distress. 
You  are  in  danger  any  moment  of  betraying  his  re*- 


410  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

treat  to  an  enemy,  and  if  he  is  captured,  his  life  is  for 
feit,  as  you  know. ' ' 

I  spoke  thus  to  arouse  her  from  a  contemplation  of 
her  own  woes  to  his  danger,  for  well  I  knew  her  gen 
erous  soul  would  respond  at  once  to  such  a  plea,  and 
I  was  not  mistaken.  Her  sobs  ceased  instantly  and 
she  stilled  Clotilde  with  a  word ;  then  she  turned  and 
looked  at  me  quietly  while  I  went  on  with  what  I  had 
to  say: 

"It  is  to  anticipate  the  danger  of  such  discovery 
that  we  remove  Clotilde,  who,  being  almost  the  only 
negress  in  France,  would  betray  your  identity  at  once. 
I  will  take  her  with  me  to  America,  and  from  Phila 
delphia  I  will  send  her  under  safe  escort  to  Dr.  Sau- 
grain  in  St.  Louis,  and  when  you  are  safely  established 
in  your  own  home  you  can  send  for  her  again. ' ' 

I  think  the  thought  of  seeing  St.  Louis  once  more 
half  consoled  Clotilde  for  the  parting,  though  she.  was 
a  faithful  creature  and  loved  her  mistress,  and  would 
have  followed  her  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  I  know  it 
helped  to  console  Pelagic,  for  it  was  the  thought  of 
leaving  Clotilde  alone  and  unprotected  in  a  foreign 
country  that  disturbed  her  most. 

But  all  this  had  taken  much  time,  and  the  half-hour 
the  prince  had  allowed  for  rest  was  more  than  up. 
They  had  had  their  supper,  the  carriage-horses  had 
been  changed,  the  saddle-horses  had  been  fed  and 
watered,  and  the  prince  was  in  feverish  haste  to  be 
off.  I  ran  swiftly  to  the  Couit  d'Honneur,  where  I 
had  left  Caesar,  and  found  him  wondering  anxiously 
"what  had  kept  me  so  long.  He  had  fed  and  watered 


"  GOOD-BY,  SWEETHEART ! »  411 

both  horses  and  was  now  letting  them  crop  a  little  of 
the  luxuriant  grass  at  their  feet.  I  did  not  stop  for 
explanations,  but  bidding  him  follow  me  with  his 
horse,  I  led  Fatima  by  a  shorter  and  more  direct  route 
straight  from  the  Grille  d'Honneur  to  the  little  cha 
teau.  I  found  the  carriage  with  "  Monsieur  and 
Madame  du  Bois";  the  coachman  and  outriders  had 
already  started.  Pierre  had  set  out  a  luncheon  on  the 
little  stone  table  for  Caesar  and  me  (for  since  we  were 
not  to  go  to  his  inn  there  was  no  prospect  for  supper 
for  us) ,  and  was  getting  the  two  carriage-horses  ready 
to  take  them  back  with  him.  Clotilde  was  silently 
weeping  and  Pelagic  was  trying  to  comfort  her.  I 
led  Fatima  straight  to  Pelagic. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "the  Prince  de  Polignac 
permits  me  to  give  you  a  farewell  present.  Will  you 
take  Fatima  and  keep  her  for  me  ?  She  will  bear  you 
to  your  destination,  I  believe,  more  safely  and  more 
surely  than  any  horse  in  the  world. ' ' 

"Oh,  Monsieur,  Monsieur!"  she  said,  and  then 
could  say  nothing  more,  her  little  chin  quivering  pite- 
ously.  I  could  not  bear  to  see  it.  I  had  motioned  to 
Caesar  to  put  on  Fatima  the  side-saddle  lying  on  the 
grass,  and  now  I  said, 

"Let  me  put  you  on  her  back,"  and  bent  to  lift 
her;  but  she  drew  back. 

"Oh,  no,  no,  Monsieur!"  she  cried.  "I  know  why 
you  do  it,  and  I  know  what  a  sacrifice  it  is  to  you.  I 
cannot  let  you  give  up  Fatima!" 

"Then  you  are  depriving  me  of  a  great  happiness," 
I  softly  answered.  ' l  I  had  hoped  you  would  take  her 


412  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

and  keep  her  and  love  her.  It  would  be  a  great  com 
fort  to  me  in  distant  America  to  think  of  you  as  being 
kind  to  her  sometimes  for  the  sake  of  old  St.  Louis 
memories. ' ' 

I  looked  steadily  into  her  eyes. 

"Mademoiselle,  may  I  put  you  on  her  back?" 

She  bowed  her  head,  and  I  lifted  her  to  her  seat,  put 
her  foot  in  the  stirrup  and  the  bridle  in  her  hand. 
Then  I  threw  my  arm  over  Fatima's  neck. 

"Good-by,  Sweetheart,"  I  whispered,  "take  good 
care  of  your  mistress,"  and  kissed  her  on  the  white 
star  on  her  forehead.  Still  with  my  arm  over  her  neck 
I  reached  up  my  hand  to  mademoiselle. 

She  put  her  hand  in  mine,  and  I  kissed  it  as  I  had 
kissed  it  when  she  chose  me  her  king ;  then  I  lifted  my 
•eyes  and  looked  straight  into  hers. 

"Good-by,  Mademoiselle,  and  au  revoir, "  I  said, 
and  dropped  her  hand. 

She  could  not  answer  for  the  same  piteous  quiver 
ing  of  the  chin,  but  her  lips  formed  " Au  revoir" ;  and 
then  she  turned  Fatima  and  rode  slowly  under  the 
leafy  arch  that  led  through  a  long  tunnel  of  foliage, 
due  east. 

"Monsieur,"  said  the  prince,  and  I  started;  for  a 
moment  I  had  forgotten  his  existence. 

He  had  withdrawn  courteously  while  I  was  making 
my  adieus  with  mademoiselle,  busying  himself  with 
little  preparations  for  departure.  Now  he  had 
mounted  and  drawn  his  horse  to  my  side. 

"Monsieur,  you  have  taught  me  to  honor  and  ad 
mire  all  American  gentlemen.  If  there  is  any  service 


"GOOD-BY,  SWEETHEART!"  413 

I  can  ever  do  you,  I  hope  you  will  give  me  the  oppor 
tunity  of  showing  you  how  much  I  appreciate  the 
great  service  you  have  done  us  this  night." 

"Monsieur  le  Prince,"  I  answered  quickly,  too 
eager  with  my  own  thoughts  to  thank  him  for  his  kind 
words,  "there  is  one  kindness  you  can  show  me  that 
will  more  than  repay  me  for  anything  I  have  ever 
done  or  ever  could  do.  Write  me  of  mademoiselle's 
safe  arrival  when  you  reach  Baden.  I  will  give  you 
my  address/'  and  I  tore  a  leaf  from  my  memorandum- 
book,  wrote  my  address  upon  it,  and  thrust  it  into  his 
hand. 

"  It  is  a  small  commission,  Monsieur, ' '  he  answered, 
* '  but  I  will  be  most  happy  to  execute  it. ' ' 

He  grasped  my  hand,  said  "Au  revoir,"  and  can 
tered  quickly  away  after  mademoiselle. 

I  watched  them  riding  side  by  side  under  the  leafy 
dome  until  their  figures  were  lost  in  the  darkness, 
mademoiselle  still  with  bent  head,  and  he  with  his  face 
turned  courteously  away  as  if  not  to  seem  to  see 
should  she  be  softly  crying.  And  if  there  was  for  a 
moment  in  my  heart  a  jealous  envy  that  he  should 
ride  by  mademoiselle's  side  and  I  be  left  behind,  I  put 
it  quickly  away,  for  I  knew  him  to  be  a  noble  and  cour 
teous  gentleman,  and  one  to  whose  honor  I  could  trust 
the  dearest  thing  in  life. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

EXIT   LE    CHEVALIER 

"  The  King  of  France  with  forty  thousand  men, 
Went  up  a  hill,  and  so  came  down  agen." 

CLOTILDE,  Csesar,  and  I  had  ridden  late  into  the 
night  before  we  had  reached  the  little  village  on 
the  Seine  where  my  boatman,  Gustave,  was  to  tie  up. 
But  it  was  moonlight  and  we  rode  through  a  beautiful 
country  dotted  with  royal  chateaus,— the  birthplaces 
jof  illustrious  kings,— and  I  had  my  thoughts,  and  Clo- 
tilde  and  Caesar  had  each  other:  for  Caesar  was  the 
first  of  her  kind  Clotilde  had  seen  since  coming  to 
France,  and  much  as  she  might  enjoy  the  attentions 
of  footmen  in  gorgeous  liveries,  after  all  they  were 
only  " white  trash,"  and  she  loved  best  her  own  color. 
Clotilde  was  rapidly  becoming  consoled;  and  though 
she  only  spoke  Creole  French,  and  Caesar  only  Eng 
lish,  save  for  the  few  words  he  had  picked  up  since 
coming  to  Paris,  they  seemed  to  make  themselves  very 
well  understood. 

So  the  ride  had  not  been  so  tedious  as  it  might  have 
been.  And  when  we  had  found  Gustave 's  boat  tied  to 
the  bank  and  had  routed  up  him  and  his  wife,  and  de 
livered  Clotilde  into  their  care  (and  their  admiration 

414 


EXIT  LE  CHEVALIER  415 

and  awe  of  the  black  lady  was  wonderful  to  see) ,  and 
Caesar  and  I  had  hunted  up  a  fairly  comfortable  inn 
and  had  two  or  three  hours  of  sleep,  we  were  all  quite 
ready  to  start  on  again. 

Feeling  that  Clotilde  was  a  sacred  trust,  I  was  anx 
ious  both  for  her  safety  and  for  her  welfare,  and  thus 
it  was  that  the  early  morning  found  me  following  the 
windings  of  the  Seine  by  a  little  bridle-path  on  its 
banks,  hardly  twenty  feet  from  Gustave's  boat  drop 
ping  down  with  the  tide.  Gustave's  wife  was  in  the 
forward  part  of  the  boat,  preparing  breakfast  for  the 
three,  and  the  savory  odor  of  her  bacon  and  coffee  was 
borne  by  the  breeze  straight  to  my  nostrils  on  the  high 
bank  above  her.  Gustave  himself  was  in  the  stern  of 
the  boat,  lazily  managing  the  steering-oar  and  wait 
ing  for  his  breakfast,  and  incidentally  grinning  from 
ear  to  ear  at  Cassar,  riding  a  pace  behind  me  and  cast 
ing  longing  glances  at  the  thatched  roof  of  the  little 
boat 's  cabin,  whence  issued  in  rich  negro  tones  the  cre- 
ole  love-song  Yorke  had  sung  to  Clotilde  on  the  Ohio 
boat: 

"Every  springtime 

All  the  lovers 

Change  their  sweethearts; 

Let  change  who  will, 

I  keep  mine." 

I  had  straitly  charged  Clotilde  that  she  must  keep 
herself  closely  concealed  within  the  cabin,  but  I  had 
said  nothing  to  her  about  also  keeping  quiet.  Now  I 
was  idly  thinking  that  perhaps  I  had  better  give  her 
instructions  upon  that  point  also,  when  down  the 


416  THE  ROSE  OF   OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

stony  road  some  three  feet  higher  than  the  bridle 
path,  and  separated  from  it  by  a  bank  of  turf,  came 
the  thunder  of  hoofs.  I  glanced  up  quickly.  A  little 
party  of  horsemen,  five  or  six  in  number,  were  dashing 
down  the  road  toward  us,  and  in  the  lead  was  the 
Chevalier  Le  Moyne !  At  sight  of  us  they  drew  rein, 
and  the  chevalier,  looking  down  on  me  (for  the  first 
time  in  his  life),  brought  his  hat  to  his  saddle-bow 
with  a  flourish. 

"Good  morning,  Monsieur.  I  hear  you  are  off  for 
America. ' ' 

"Good  morning, "  I  answered  coolly,  merely  touch 
ing  my  own  hat.  "You  have  heard  correctly";  and 
I  wished  with  all  my  heart  that  I  had  had  time  to  tell 
Clotilde  to  keep  still,  for  up  from  the  boat  below, 
louder  and  clearer  than  ever,  it  seemed  to  me,  came 
the  refrain  of  her  foolish  song : 

"  Tous  les  printemps, 
Tons  les  amants 
Changent  de  mattresses ; 
Qu'ils  changent  qui  voudront, 
Pour  moi,  je  garde  la  mienne." 

The  chevalier  was  listening  pointedly. 

"An  old  song,  Monsieur,  that  I  have  often  heard  in 
St.  Louis.  And  the  voice,  too,  I  think  is  familiar.  It 
is  the  black  maid  of  the  Comtesse  de  Baloit,  is  it  not  ? 
Perhaps  her  mistress  is  with  her ;  if  so,  our  quest  is  at 
an  end." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Monsieur  le  Chevalier!"  I  ex 
claimed,  affecting  virtuous  indignation,  and  feeling 
a  little  of  it,  too,  for  I  liked  not  the  chevalier's  manner. 


EXIT  LE  CHEVALIER  417 

"You  have  heard,  I  suppose,"  he  answered,  with  a 
light  sneer,  "that  the  comtesse  has  disappeared  from 
Paris.  At  almost  the  same  moment  it  was  announced 
that  monsieur  had  started  for  America,  and  some  of 
the  comtesse 's  friends  thought  it  not  impossible  that 
they  had  gone  together.  From  the  warbling  of  that 
nightingale  yonder  I  judge  they  were  not  far  wrong. " 

Not  until  this  moment  had  it  occurred  to  me  that 
any  one  would  connect  the  flight  of  the  comtesse  with 
my  departure,  and  I  hardly  knew  whether  I  was  more 
ragingly  angry  at  the  thought  or  secretly  glad.  There 
was  no  question  as  to  my  state  of  mind  toward  the 
chevalier.  That  he  should  speak  in  such  a  light  and 
sneering  tone  of  any  lady,  but  most  of  all  that  he 
should  so  speak  of  the  loveliest  lady  on  earth,  was  not 
to  be  borne.  Yet  I  was  glad,  for  some  reasons,  that 
such  a  mistaken  surmise  had  arisen:  it  would  throw 
pursuit  off  the  track  until  Pelagie  was  well  on  her 
way  to  the  German  frontier,  and  the  truth  would  come 
out  later  and  my  lady  not  suffer  in  her  reputation 
(which  indeed  I  could  not  have  endured). 

So  instead  of  giving  free  vent  to  the  anger  that 
raged  in  my  heart,  as  I  longed  to  do,  I  thought  it  wise 
to  dally  with  the  chevalier  and  keep  him  as  long  as 
possible  on  the  wrong  scent,  for  every  moment  of  de 
lay  to  the  chevalier  was  setting  mademoiselle  farther 
on  her  way. 

"Your  news,  Monsieur,"  I  said,  "is  most  astonish 
ing,  but  your  insinuations  also  most  insulting  to  a 
lady  whose  honor  and  reputation  shall  ever  be  my 
dearest  care. ' ' 

27 


418  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Now  the  chevalier  was  five  to  one  (for  I  could  not 
count  upon  Caesar  for  fighting,  as  I  might  have 
counted  upon  Yorke).  I  do  not  say  that  that  fact 
made  the  chevalier  more  bold  or  less  careful  in  his 
manner,  but  I  certainly  think  that  had  we  been  man 
to  man  he  would  not  have  answered  as  he  did. 

"Your  virtuous  indignation  is  pretty  to  see,  Mon 
sieur,  ' '  he  answered ;  i  i  but  I  have  the  warrant  of  the 
republic  to  search  whatever  domains  I  may  suspect  of 
harboring  the  comtesse,  and  I  think  I  will  use  my 
rights  on  yonder  boat,  where  I  see  the  face  of  her  maid 
at  the  window. ' ' 

I  glanced  quickly  at  the  boat.  Sure  enough,  in  the 
little  square  of  glass  that  formed  the  window  of  the 
cabin  was  framed  Clotilde  's  black  face.  And  her  nose 
(already  broad  enough)  being  flattened  against  the 
glass,  and  her  eyes  rolling  wildly  with  curiosity  and 
fear  as  she  gazed  at  the  party  of  armed  horsemen  on 
the  bank,  she  made  a  ludicrous  picture  indeed.  I 
would  have  liked  to  laugh  heartily  but  that  it  was  my 
role  to  display  chagrin  and  anxiety  rather  than  a  care 
less  levity. 

"Monsieur/'  I  said  seriously,  "you  are  quite  right: 
that  is  Clotilde,  the  maid  of  Mademoiselle  la  Comtesse. 
I  was  requested  last  evening  to  take  her  back  to  Amer 
ica  and  return  her  to  her  friends  in  St.  Louis.  It 
will  always  be  my  greatest  pleasure  to  render  the  com 
tesse  any  service  within  my  power,  and  I  did  not 
stop  to  question  why  she  wished  to  get  rid  of  her 
maid/' 

"Your  explanation  is  most  plausible,  Monsieur," — 


EXIT  LE  CHEVALIER  419 

the  chevalier's  tone  was  intentionally  insulting,  and, 
but  that  I  had  mademoiselle's  interests  more  at  heart 
than  my  own  sensitive  self-esteem,  would  have  been 
hard  to  brook, — "but  since  I  hold  a  warrant  of  search, 
if  Monsieur  permits,  I  will  do  myself  the  honor  of 
visiting  his  boat." 

Now  I  cared  not  at  all  whether  the  chevalier  visited 
the  boat  or  not,  knowing  well  he  would  not  find  the 
comtesse  there.  My  only  anxiety  was  to  temporize  as 
long  as  possible  and  keep  him  still  suspicious  of  my 
complicity  with  mademoiselle's  flight,  that  she  might 
profit  by  his  delay  in  discovering  the  true  scent.  So 
I  answered  sternly : 

"Monsieur,  that  boat  is  for  the  time  being  United 
States  territory.  You  step  upon  its  planks  without 
my  consent  at  your  peril.  I  will  at  once  report  the 
matter  to  our  minister  at  Paris,  Mr.  Livingston,  and  if 
a  war  between  the  United  States  and  France  is  the  re 
sult,  you  will  have  to  give  an  account  to  the  First  Con 
sul  of  your  acts  which  caused  that  war. ' ' 

I  was  not  enough  of  a  diplomat  to  know  whether  I 
was  speaking  within  my  rights  or  not,  but  I  trusted 
to  the  chevalier  being  no  better  informed  than  I,  and 
at  the  best  I  was  but  speaking  against  time.  The 
effect  of  my  speech  was  all  that  I  could  have  desired. 
The  chevalier  looked  immediately  crestfallen,  and 
turned  to  consult  with  his  comrades.  For  full  five 
minutes  (I  could  have  wished  it  ten  times  five)  they 
carried  on  a  conference  that  at  times  appeared  to  bt 
heated,  though  always  low-toned.  Then  the  chevalier 
turned  to  me  again,  and  his  manner  was  no  longer  in- 


420  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

suiting,  but  of  such  respect  as  is  due  one  gentleman 
from  another. 

" Monsieur,"  he  said,  " perhaps  I  have  no  right  to 
demand  that  I  be  allowed  to  search  a  boat  belonging 
to  an  American  gentleman,  but  if  Monsieur  will  per 
mit  me  to  do  so  he  will  oblige  me  greatly,  and  it  will 
be  the  means  of  clearing  him  at  once  of  suspicions  that 
may  have  unjustly  accrued  to  him. ' ' 

There  was  no  wisdom  in  delaying  longer. 

" Since  Monsieur  puts  it  in  that  way,"  I  said,  "I 
can  have  no  object  in  refusing  his  request.  I  shall 
have  to  ask  you,  however,  that  you  wait  a  few  minutes 
until  I  step  aboard  and  warn  Gustave  and  his  wife  of 
the  purpose  of  your  visit,  lest  they  be  unnecessarily 
alarmed." 

The  chevalier  showed  that  he  liked  not  the  last  part 
of  my  speech.  He  no  doubt  thought  that  my  purpose 
in  going  aboard  first  was  to  find  a  secure  hiding-place 
for  the  comtesse.  However,  he  had  no  alternative  but 
to  acquiesce.  My  real  purpose  was  to  warn  Gustave 
and  his  wife  that  on  no  account  were  they  to  betray 
at  what  hour  or  where  Clotilde  had  come  aboard.  She 
was  to  have  come  aboard  at  Paris  at  four  o'clock  the 
day  before;  and  they,  having  no  inkling  of  the  true 
state  of  the  case,  but  suspecting,  I  believe,  some  in 
trigue  between  the  "dark  lady"  and  her  lovers,  sym 
pathetically  promised  implicit  obedience.  With  Clo 
tilde  I  was  even  more  strenuous.  Her  story  must 
agree  with  Gustave 's:  she  had  boarded  the  boat  in 
Paris  at  four  of  the  afternoon ;  but  especially  was  she 
to  know  nothing  of  her  mistress's  plans— why  or 


EXIT  LE  CHEVALIER  421 

where  she  had  gone.  With  her  I  appealed  to  her  love 
for  her  mistress,  and  warned  her  that  the  comtesse's 
liberty,  possibly  her  life,  might  depend  upon  her  dis 
cretion.  With  the  others  a  promise  of  liberal  rewards 
if  they  proved  true,  and  dire  threats  should  they  be 
tray  me,  I  believed  secured  their  fidelity. 

I  had  had  Gustave  tie  the  boat  to  the  bank  before 
boarding  it  myself;  I  now  invited  the  chevalier  and 
his  friends  to  come  aboard.  Leaving  two  of  their 
comrades  to  hold  their  horses,  the  three  others  climbed 
down  the  bank  and  hastened  to  comply  with  my  invi 
tation.  As  they  did  so  I  saw  Caesar  dismount,  tie  his 
own  horse  and  mine  securely  to  two  saplings,  and 
clamber  up  the  bank  beside  the  horsemen.  I  thought 
his  motive  was  probably  to  take  advantage  of  this  op 
portunity  to  stretch  his  legs,  and  perhaps  also  to  in 
dulge  his  curiosity  with  a  nearer  view  of  the  French 
gentlemen,  and  I  saw  no  reason  to  interfere— es 
pecially  as  the  two  gentlemen,  young  blades  whom  I 
knew  by  sight,  not  only  offered  no  objections,  but  be 
gan  at  once  to  amuse  themselves  with  his  clownish 
manners  and  outlandish  speech. 

Of  course  the  chevalier's  quest  was  futile,  as  also 
was  his  examination  of  his  three  witnesses.  They  all 
stuck  to  their  text,— the  embarkation  of  Clotilde  at 
four  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  previous  in  Paris,— and 
Clotilde  was  as  stupid  as  heart  could  desire,  profess 
ing  absolute  ignorance  of  her  mistress's  plans,  and 
knowing  only  that  she  herself  was  being  sent  home  to 
America  because  she  was  homesick;  and  with  a  ne- 
gress's  love  of  gratuitous  insult  when  she  thinks 


422  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

she  is  safe  in  offering  it,  she  added  in  her  Creole  dia 
lect: 

"De  Lord  knows,  I  's  sick  o'  white  trash  anyhow. 
I  's  mighty  glad  to  be  gittin'  back  to  a  country  ob 
ladies  and  gen'lemen." 

The  chevalier's  two  companions  laughed,  but  the 
chevalier  looked  perplexed. 

"Monsieur,"  he  said,  with  an  air  of  exaggerated 
deference,  "I  have  discovered  nothing  on  your  boat, 
either  by  search  or  by  examination  of  the  witnesses, 
that  can  implicate  you  in  any  way  with  the  flight  of 
the  Comtesse  de  Baloit.  But  will  you  permit  me  to 
ask  you  one  important  question  ?  How  does  it  happen 
that  you  are  not  riding  Fatima,  and  that  you  are  rid 
ing  the  horse  which  answers  exactly  to  the  description 
of  the  one  the  comtesse  was  riding  when  she  disap 
peared?"  and  the  chevalier  could  not  quite  keep  the 
tone  of  triumph  out  of  his  voice  as  he  propounded  his 
question.  I  had  been  expecting  it,  and  I  was  prepared 
for  it.  I  should  have  been  much  disappointed  if  he 
had  not  asked  it. 

"Monsieur,"  I  answered,  "Fatima  met  with  a  se 
rious  accident  just  after  leaving  Paris.  I  was  obliged 
to  leave  her  in  the  hands  of  a  veterinary  surgeon  on 
the  outskirts  of  St.  Denis,  who  has  also  a  small  farm 
connected  with  his  establishment  for  the  care  of  sick 
horses.  He  promised  me  to  take  the  best  of  care  of 
her  and  to  return  her  to  me  in  America  as  soon  as  she 
was  sufficiently  recovered.  I  bought  this  horse  from 
a  dealer  to  whom  the  surgeon  directed  me.  I  cannot 
say  whether  it  resembles  the  horse  on  which  the  Com- 


EXIT  LE  CHEVALIER  423 

tesse  de  Baloit  left  Paris;  I  did  not  see  the  comtesse 
when  she  left  Paris." 

Which  was  the  only  truth  in  my  statement;  but  I 
did  not  for  a  moment  consider  that  I  had  told  a  lie, 
but  only  that  I  had  employed  a  ruse,  perfectly  per 
missible  in  war,  to  throw  the  enemy  off  the  track.  He 
snatched  at  the  bait. 

"Will  Monsieur  give  me  the  address  of  that  horse- 
dealer?" 

"With  pleasure,  as  nearly  as  I  am  able,"  and  there 
upon  I  described  minutely  a  place  in  St.  Denis  that 
never  existed.  But  St.  Denis  was  only  four  miles  this 
side  of  Paris,  and  should  the  chevalier  go  all  the  way 
back  to  find  out  from  the  mythical  horse-dealer  where 
he  had  procured  my  horse,  much  valuable  time  would 
be  lost  and  mademoiselle  would,  I  hoped,  be  beyond 
all  risk  of  being  overtaken. 

By  one  little  artifice  and  another  we  had  already 
managed  to  delay  them  for  a  good  three  quarters  of 
an  hour,  and  now,  by  an  apparently  happy  accident, 
as  long  a  delay  again  was  promised.  A  great  noise  of 
shouting  and  trampling  of  horses'  hoofs  arose  on  the 
bank  above  us. 

We  looked  up  and  saw  the  five  horses  plunging 
frantically,  with  the  two  Frenchmen  uttering  excited 
cries  as  they  tried  to  hold  them,  and  Caesar  doing 
his  share  in  trying  to  hold  the  horses  and  more  than 
his  share  in  making  a  noise.  As  we  looked,  one  of  the 
horses  broke  away  and  started  up  the  road  toward 
Paris.  The  two  Frenchmen  dashed  wildly  in  pur 
suit,  each  man  leading  a  horse  with  him,  and  Csesar 


424  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

running  on  behind  gesticulating  madly,  and  bellowing 
at  the  top  of  his  lungs. 

I  had  taken  advantage  of  the  excitement  of  the  fra 
cas  to  slip  from  the  post  the  rope  that  held  us  to  the 
bank.  We  glided  gently  away  down  the  river,  with 
no  one  (unless  it  might  have  been  Gustave,  but  he  said 
nothing)  noticing  that  we  were  moving  until  we  were 
many  yards  below  our  mooring-place.  The  anger  of 
the  chevalier  and  his  friends  when  they  discovered  it 
knew  no  bounds.  Gustave  was  full  of  apologies  for 
his  carelessness,  as  he  called  it ;  I  was  dignified. 

" Gustave/'  I  said  severely,  "make  a  mooring  as 
quickly  as  possible,  that  Monsieur  le  Chevalier  and  his 
friends  may  rejoin  their  horses." 

Gustave  made  all  haste  apparently,  but  without 
doubt  he  fumbled,  and  we  were  some  two  or  three 
hundred  yards  farther  down  the  river  before  we  were 
finally  tied  to  the  bank. 

"Good-by,  Messieurs,"  I  said  politely  as  the  three 
hastened  to  leap  ashore.  "I  trust  you  will  have  no 
difficulty  in  recovering  your  horses. ' ' 

They  stayed  not  upon  the  order  of  their  going,  as 
Mr.  Shakspere  says,  but  scrambled  up  the  bank  and 
on  to  the  hot  and  stony  road,  and  the  sun,  now  well 
up  in  the  sky,  beating  strongly  on  their  backs,  they 
started  at  a  round  pace  toward  Paris,  their  horses 
by  this  time  out  of  sight  around  a  distant  bend  in  the 
road. 

Caesar  had  given  up  the  pursuit  and  returned  to 
where  he  had  tied  our  horses.  I  signaled  to  him  to 


EXIT  LE  CHEVALIER  425- 

bring  them  down  the  river,  and  mounting  his  and 
leading  mine,  he  was  soon  at  our  mooring-place. 

Riding  down  the  soft  turf  of  the  shady  bridle-path 
a  few  minutes  later,  I  heard  Caesar  chuckling  behind 
me.  I  turned  in  my  saddle : 

"What  is  it,  Ctesar?" 

"I  done  it,  Marsa!" 

"Did  what,  Cjesar?" 

"Done  mek  dat  hoss  run  away.  I  put  a  burr  un'er 
his  girth.  Den  when  he  plunged  I  cotched  de  bridle 
and  let  him  loose.  He,  he,  he !  Hi,  hi,  hi ! "  and  Caesar 
rolled  in  his  saddle  in  convulsions  of  mirth,  while  the 
shore  echoed  to  his  guffaws. 

I  looked  at  him  in  astonishment  for  a  moment. 
Then  he  had  planned  it  all:  tying  the  two  horses, 
clambering  up  to  the  road,  making  himself  the  jest  of 
the  two  Frenchmen,  and  all  the  time  the  burr  con 
cealed  in  his  hand,  no  doubt,  waiting  his  chance. 

"Caesar,  you  are  a  general !"  I  said.  "Yorke  could; 
not  have  done  better."  And  then,  his  mirth  being 
contagious,  I  threw  back  my  head  and  laughed  as  long 
and  as  loud  as  he. 

I  turned  in  my  saddle  once  more  and  looked  up  the 
road.  Through  the  hot  sun  plodded  the  three  figures : 
the  chevalier  with  bent  head  and,  I  doubted  not,  with 
gnashing  teeth.  I  waved  my  hand  toward  him  and 
called,  though  he  could  neither  see  nor  hear : 

"Good-by,  Chevalier  Le  Moyne;  this  cancels  a  few- 
debts  !" 

I  have  never  seen  him  since. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

UNDER   THE   OLD  FLAG 

"  And  many  an  eye  has  danced  to  see 
That  banner  in  the  sky." 

IT  was  in  the  early  days  of  March,  some  eight 
months  later,  that  the  big  barge  in  which  I  had 
come  down  the  Ohio,  and  thus  far  on  the  Mississippi, 
put  me  ashore  at  New  Madrid  with  my  saddle-bags 
and  my  horse  Bourbon  Prince ;  for  so  I  had  promptly 
named  the  black  beauty  for  whom  I  had  exchanged 
my  chestnut  mare.  He  could  never  quite  take  the 
place  of  Fatima  in  my  affections,  but  I  had  grown 
very  fond  of  him:  partly  for  his  virtues,  for  he  was 
a  thoroughbred  of  famous  lineage,  and  partly,  I  have 
no  doubt,  because  he  had  once  belonged  to  mademoi 
selle. 

Of  mademoiselle  I  had  not  heard  for  many  months. 
I  had  arrived  at  home  in  the  late  summer,  to  find  my 
father  a  physical  and  almost  a  mental  wreck  from 
the  stroke  of  paralysis  that  had  laid  him  low  nearly 
three  months  before.  Yet  I  had  never  loved  my 
strong,  stern  father  in  the  prime  of  manhood,  man 
aging  great  business  enterprises,  occupying  places  of 
honor  and  responsibility  in  the  State,  as  I  loved  this 

426 


UNDER  THE  OLD  FLAG  427 

feeble  and  broken  old  man  with  the  face  and  the 
manner  of  a  little  child.  As  the  weeks  went  on  and 
he  gradually  grew  able  to  move  about,  it  was  my 
pride  and  my  joy  to  walk  slowly  down  Chestnut 
Street,  my  father  leaning  heavily  on  my  arm,  and 
looking  up  into  my  face  to  comment  with  childish  de 
light  upon  whatever  pleased  him  in  the  streets. 

I  had  had  to  assume,  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  his 
heavy  business  responsibilities,  and  the  charge  of  his 
great  properties,  and  but  that  my  mother  was  herself 
a  fine  business  woman  and  thoroughly  informed  on 
my  father's  affajrs  I  might  have  made  shipwreck  of 
it  all.  It  was  not  the  life  I  had  chosen  for  myself, 
but  it  lay  so  directly  in  the  path  of  duty  there  was  no 
escaping  it,  and  it  kept  every  moment  so  fully  occu 
pied  there  was  no  time  left  for  brooding  over  private 
troubles. 

I  had  received  a  letter  from  the  Prince  de  Poli- 
gnac  about  two  weeks  after  my  return  home,  telling 
me  of  the  safe  arrival  in  Baden  of  the  Comtesse  de 
Baloit.  It  was  a  very  courteous  letter,  thanking  me 
once  more  for  the  great  services  I  had  rendered  them 
on  that  eventful  night  in  the  Chantilly  parks,  and 
inclosing  a  pleasant  message  of  acknowledgment  from 
the  Due  d'Enghien  for  the  kindness  shown  his  cousin 
the  countess.  Mademoiselle  had  added  a  line  in  her 
own  writing: 

' '  Fatima  is  well,  and  I  love  her  for  the  sake  of  dear 
old  St.  Louis. 

PELAGIE.  ' ' 


428  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

To  most  people  that  might  seem  a  very  common 
place  little  message ;  to  me  those  sixteen  words  were 
the  most  wonderful  ever  written.  I  twisted  and 
turned  them  until  each  one  became  a  volume  of  ten 
der  sentiments,  and  the  little  signature  "Pelagic" 
almost  too  sacred  to  be  looked  at,  and  only  to  be  kissed, 
shut  up  in  my  own  room  in  the  dark,  or  with  none  but 
the  moon  to  see. 

I  had  replied  to  the  prince's  letter  immediately, 
sending  a  courteous  message  to  the  duke  and  a  special 
one  to  Pelagie  about  Clotilde,  whom  I  had  sent  un 
der  safe  escort  to  St.  Louis.  But  although  I  had 
intimated  to  the  prince  that  it  would  give  me  very 
great  pleasure  to  hear  occasionally  of  the  welfare 
of  the  countess,  I  never  heard  from  any  of  them 
again. 

This,  of  course,  was  an  especial  grief  to  me  on  Pe 
lagie  's  account,  but  also  it  touched  me  a  little  that 
the  prince  should  so  soon  have  forgotten  me  and  what 
he  was  pleased  to  term  my  ''great  services"  to  him, 
for  I  had  been  strongly  attracted  to  him  by  his  noble 
bearing  and  chivalrous  protection  of  mademoiselle. 
Often,  in  thinking  of  them,— he  a  noble  young  prince 
of  great  manly  beauty  and  endowed  by  nature  with 
all  charming  and  lovable  qualities;  she  the  most  ex 
quisite  of  womankind,— I  thought  it  would  be  strange 
indeed  if  in  the  intimate  companionship  of  that 
long  ride  together  they  had  not  become  so  deeply  in 
terested  in  each  other  as  to  forget  the  existence  of  a 
young  American  gentleman  three  thousand  miles 
away. 


UNDER  THE  OLD  FLAG  429 

When  in  the  winter  there  came  news  of  the  Ca- 
doudal  plots  against  the  life  of  Napoleon,  in  which 
the  young  Prince  de  Polignac  and  his  older  brother 
the  duke  were  involved;  that  both  brothers  had  been 
arrested,  tried,  and  condemned  to  death;  and,  later, 
that  Napoleon  had  granted  them  a  free  pardon,  I 
could  easily  believe  that  other  interests  than  love  and 
marriage  had  so  absorbed  the  prince  as  to  make  him 
forgetful  of  a  distant  acquaintance. 

On  the  heels  of  this  appalling  news,  which  shook 
the  world  and  which  yet  left  me  glad  and  grateful 
that  the  chivalrous  young  prince  had  been  saved  from 
the  ignominious  death  of  an  assassin,  there  came  a 
letter  to  me  from  Captain  Clarke,  written  in  St. 
Louis,  inviting  me  to  join  the  expedition  of  discovery 
and  exploration  which  Mr.  Meriwether  Lewis  and  he 
were  to  conduct  up  the  Missouri  River  and  across  the 
mountains. 

Few  duties  have  come  to  me  in  life  more  difficult  to 
perform  than  the  writing  of  that  letter  declining  the 
invitation.  It  was  the  life  I  longed  for,  to  be  had  for 
the  taking,  and  an  expedition  of  such  kind  under  the 
leadership  of  two  men  like  my  captain,  whom  I  still 
adored,  and  Mr.  Meriwether  Lewis,  whom  I  greatly 
admired,  was  the  strongest  temptation  that  could  be 
presented  to  me. 

But  I  knew  well  it  was  not  for  me.  It  would,  no 
doubt,  be  a  year  or  two  in  the  accomplishing,  with 
many  hazards  to  life  and  limb,  and  I  was  now  the 
virtual  head  of  the  family,  with  mother  and  sisters 
and  invalid  father  ;.ll  looking  to  me  for  protection 


430  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

and  guidance  and  comfort.  No,  it  was  not  to  be 
thought  of. 

Without  consulting  any  one  I  sent  my  answer,  but 
I  suppose  my  face  was  an  open  book  to  my  dear  mo 
ther,  and  in  some  moment  of  abstraction  I  had  for 
gotten  to  be  cheerful  and  so  betrayed  that  something 
was  troubling  me.  At  any  rate,  she  came  to  my 
room  one  night,  and  there,  in  the  way  that  mothers 
have,  she  beguiled  my  secret  from  me.  She  agreed 
with  me  that  it  would  never  do  in  my  father's  state 
of  health  to  join  such  an  expedition,  but  she  was 
greatly  distressed  for  what  she  called  my  disappoint 
ment,  though  I  tried  to  assure  her  it  was  not  enough 
to  think  about. 

Now  mothers  have  a  way  of  finding  a  salve  for 
every  hurt.  I  suppose  it  is  a  talent  God  has  given 
them,  that  this  world  may  be  a  pleasanter  place  for 
living  in,  and  that  the  rugged  path  we  have  to  tread 
through  it  may  be  smoother  and  pleasanter  to  our  feet. 
(Though  I  hope  no  one  will  think  because  I  have  said 
this  that  I  am  one  of  those  long-faced  people  who 
think  this  world  a  vale  of  woes  to  be  traversed  as 
quickly  as  possible,  looking  neither  to  the  right  nor 
to  the  left,  lest  they  see  something  to  please  their  eyes. 
I  have  ever  found  it  a  pleasant  world,  and  my  path 
through  it  of  exceeding  interest,  with  some  sorrows 
and  many  difficulties  to  test  one's  mettle  and  add  to 
the  zest  of  living ;  but  also  with  many  wonderful  and 
beautiful  things  lying  all  along  the  path,  that  God 
has  placed  there  that  one  may  stop  and  enjoy  them 
and  rest  by  the  wayside.) 


UNDER  THE  OLD  FLAG  431 

Now  the  salve  my  mother  found  for  this  hurt  was 
one  to  my  especial  liking. 

''Though  you  could  not  be  gone  from  home  two  or 
three  years,  my  son,"  she  said,  "a  matter  of  two  or 
three  months  could  make  no  great  difference  to  any 
one;  why  not  go  out  to  St.  Louis,  see  your  friends 
there,  and  help  the  expedition  get  under  way?" 

My  heart  gave  a  great  leap.  "And  get  news  of 
mademoiselle  from  Dr.  Saugrain,"  I  said  to  myself; 
but  then  I  hesitated.  Would  my  father  miss  me  too 
sadly?  for  he  had  seemed  to  lean  upon  me  much  for 
comfort  and  companionship.  When  I  expressed  my 
fears  to  my  mother,  she  hesitated  also,  but  we  both 
finally  agreed  we  would  leave  it  to  her  to  broach  the 
matter  to  my  father,  and  if  it  seemed  to  distress  him 
too  greatly,  we  would  say  nothing  more  about  it. 

To  my  surprise,  he  was  almost  more  eager  for  it 
than  my  mother.  It  need  not  have  surprised  me,  for 
even  in  the  old  days  my  father,  though  stern,  had 
never  been  selfish,  and  now  all  the  unselfishness  of  his 
nature  had  seemed  to  grow  strong  with  his  feebleness. 

Thus  it  was  that  I  stood  once  more  on  the  shores 
of  the  Great  River.  Had  my  impatience  permitted 
me  to  wait  a  little  longer  at  Pittsburg,  I  might  have 
found  a  boat  going  all  the  way  to  St.  Louis,  but  I 
had  rather  take  the  ride  of  nearly  a  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  on  Bourbon  (for  so  I  had  shortened  his 
name)  than  to  spend  a  day  in  idle  waiting.  A  barge 
going  to  New  Orleans  (New  Orleans  had  been  under 
our  flag  since  the  twentieth  of  December,  and  the 
river  was  teeming  with  craft  bearing  our  merchan- 


432  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

dise  to  the  once  prohibited  market)  took  me  on  board 
and  put  me  ashore  at  New  Madrid  in  the  early  morn 
ing,  and  I  lost  not  a  moment's  time  in  getting  started 
on  my  northward  way. 

The  spring  was  early  that  year,  and  in  the  warm 
and  sheltered  valley,  lying  open  to  the  south,  where 
New  Madrid  nestles,  the  orchards  were  already  a  pink 
and  white  glory,  and  in  the  forest  glades  the  wild 
azaleas  and  the  dogwood  were  just  ready  to  burst  into 
bloom.  Riding  under  leafy  archways  of  tall  trees 
garlanded  with  wild  vines,  or  through  natural  mea 
dows  dotted  with  clumps  of  shrubbery,  as  if  set  out  by 
the  hand  of  man  for  a  park,  where  the  turf  was  like 
velvet  under  Bourbon's  feet;  crossing  little  streams 
that  a  sudden  rush  of  headwater  from  the  hills 
had  swollen  to  dangerous  torrents,  or  other  streams 
that  backwater  from  the  Great  River  had  con 
verted  into  inland  lakes;  the  air  sweet  with  the  fra 
grance  of  the  wild  crab  and  blossoming  grape ;  wood- 
thi^aa  and  oriole,  meadow-lark  and  cardinal-bird, 
making  the  woods  ring  with  their  melodies — this  ride 
through  Upper  Louisiana  in  the  early  springtime 
was  one  long  joy  to  eye  and  ear  and  nostril.  Farther 
north  the  spring  was  less  advanced,  only  little  leaves 
on  the  trees,  and  for  flowers  a  carpet,  sometimes  ex 
tending  for  miles,  of  creamy-white  spring-beau 
ties,  streaked  with  rosy  pink,  laid  down  for  Bour 
bon's  feet  to  tread  upon;  and  for  birds  the  modest 
song-sparrow  and  bluebird,  earliest  harbingers  of 
spring. 

I  stayed  the  first  night  in  Cape  Girardeau  (and 


UNDER  THE  OLD  FLAG  433 

thought  of  the  chevalier  in  hiding  for  weeks  among 
the  Osages  near  by)  ;  the  second  night  I  spent  with  the 
Valles  in  Ste.  Genevieve.  I  had  known  young  Fran- 
Qois  Valle  in  St.  Louis  the  winter  before,  and  meeting 
me  on  the  street  as  I  rode  into  town,  he  carried  me  off 
at  once  to  his  father's  house  with  true  Louisiana  hos 
pitality — a  hospitality  that  welcomed  the  coming 
but  did  not  speed  the  parting  guest.  I  found  it  hard 
work  to  get  away  the  next  morning,  with  such 
friendly  insistence  did  they  urge  me  to  remain  for  a 
visit,  seeming  to  feel  also  that  I  was  putting  a  slight 
upon  their  quaint  old  town— the  oldest  in  Upper 
Louisiana — by  so  short  a  stay. 

But  I  was  impatient  to  be  on  my  way,  and  my  im 
patience  grew  as  I  neared  St.  Louis.  A  long  day's 
ride  brought  me  toward  evening  to  the  banks  of  the 
Maramec,  full  to  the  brim  of  its  high  banks  with  back 
water  from  the  Mississippi.  I  thought,  at  first,  I 
would  have  to  swim  it,  but,  fortunately,  I  spied  a 
horn  hanging  from  the  limb  of  a  sycamore  above  my 
head,  and  I  knew  enough  of  the  ways  of  this  frontier 
country  to  know  that  a  horn  by  a  river-bank  meant  a 
ferry.  So  I  blew  it  lustily,  and  in  five  minutes  there 
appeared  from  under  the  overhanging  trees  of  the 
opposite  bank  a  flatboat,  paddled  by  an  old  man, 
who  not  only  ferried  Bourbon  and  me  safely  across 
dry-shod,  but  persuaded  me  to  spend  the  night  with 
him  in  his  little  cabin;  for  the  night  was  coming 
on  cloudy  and  dark,  and  there  were  still  nearly  twenty 
miles  to  ride,  and  swollen  streams  to  cross  that  might 
mean  trouble  in  the  dark.  He  had  not  the  great 


434  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

house  of  the  Valles,  with  troops  of  slaves  to  wait  on 
us  and  an  abundance  of  frontier  luxuries  (for  Mr. 
Francois  Valle,  Sr.,  was  the  richest  man  in  all  that 
country)  but  his  hospitality  was  as  genuine.  For 
the  ferriage  he  took  money,  since  that  was  his  busi 
ness;  for  the  night's  lodging  and  supper  and  break 
fast  he  would  have  none  of  it.  True,  my  bed  was  only 
a  bearskin  on  the  hard  floor,  and  my  supper  and 
breakfast  were  the  same,— a  slice  of  bacon  and  a  bowl 
of  hominy,— but  such  as  he  had  he  gave  me  of  his  best. 

In  the  early  dawn  I  had  a  plunge  in  the  Maramec 
for  bath  (and  its  waters  had  the  icy  tang  of  the 
melting  snows  on  the  distant  mountains),  and  then 
I  made  a  careful  toilet,  for  in  a  few  hours  I  would 
see  my  old  friends  in  St.  Louis,  and,  at  thought  of  the 
merry  glances  from  bright  eyes  I  would  soon  be 
meeting,  my  heart  sank  within  me  that  Pelagie's 
would  not  be  among  them. 

As  I  neared  St.  Louis,  every  step  of  the  way  was 
full  of  reminders  of  her.  Crossing  La  Petite  Riviere, 
I  thought  of  the  day  of  the  picnic  011  Chouteau's 
Pond,  and  involuntarily  I  listened  for  the  call  of  the 
whippoorwill.  But  instead  there  was  the  happy  song 
of  the  spring  birds  filling  the  woods  that  crested  the 
banks,  and  my  heart  grew  lighter  in  response  to 
their  joyous  melodies. 

I  entered  the  town  by  the  lower  entrance,  leading 
through  the  stockade  on  to  the  Rue  Royale,  for  I  was 
of  a  mind  to  ride  through  the  streets  of  the  town  and 
see  whom  I  should  chance  to  meet  before  presenting 
myself  at  Dr.  Saugrain's. 


UNDER  THE  OLD  FLAG  435 

I  had  advanced  no  great  distance  when  I  saw  com 
ing  to  meet  me  a  splendid  procession :  young  men  and 
maidens,  parents  and  children,  the  whole  population 
of  the  town,  I  should  think,  in  gala  array,  and  singing 
as  they  came. 

I  was  overwhelmed  at  the  prospect  of  such  honor 
accorded  me,  and  greatly  touched,  too,  that  my  old 
friends  should  welcome  me  back  so  gladly,  but  I  was  in 
a  quandary  what  to  do :  whether  it  would  be  more  dig 
nified  to  stay  Bourbon  in  the  middle  of  the  road  and 
await  their  approach,  or  whether  to  advance  to  meet 
them. 

It  puzzled  me  greatly,  also,  that  they  should  have 
known  the  exact  moment  of  my  arrival,  for  although 
both  Dr.  Saugrain  and  Captain  Clarke  knew  of  my 
intended  visit,  they  could  hardly  have  calculated  to 
such  a  nicety  not  only  the  day  but  the  very  hour  of 
my  entry  into  town.  It  must  be  that  pickets  had  been 
stationed  to  descry  my  approach  from  a  distance  and 
give  the  signal. 

Still  puzzling  my  brains  over  the  wonder  of  it  all, 
and  hardly  knowing  whether  to  feel  more  proud  or 
more  frightened  at  the  honor  intended  me,  and  wish 
ing  with  all  my  heart  that  I  had  known  of  it  that  I 
might  have  arrayed  myself  in  a  costume  befitting  the 
occasion,  I  slowly  drew  near  the  procession,  and  the 
procession  drew  near  me. 

Then  suddenly  I  discovered  what  nothing  but  my 
domtiferous  vanity  had  prevented  me  from  discern 
ing  from  the  first:  this  was  a  religious  procession 
bearing  the  banners  of  the  church  and  singing  Aves 


436  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

and  Te  Deums.  I  had  known  such  processions  before 
in  St.  Louis  on  saints'  days,  and  always  headed  by 
the  two  most  beautiful  maidens  in  the  town,  bearing 
silver  plates,  who,  as  the  procession  drew  up  to  the 
church,  stood  on  either  side  of  the  door  holding  the 
plates  to  receive  alms.  I  drew  Bourbon  to  one  side 
of  the  road  and  waited. 

Yes,  there  were  the  two  beautiful  maidens  with 
the  silver  plates,  and  I  was  not  surprised  to  see  that 
one  was  Mademoiselle  Chouteau;  and  as  she  drew 
near  she  could  not  resist  a  saucy  look  of  recognition 
in  her  dancing  eyes,  entirely  out  of  character  in  the 
leader  of  a  religious  procession.  I  smiled  back  at 
her,  my  heart  already  growing  warmer  and  lighter 
with  her  friendliness,  and  then  I  glanced  at  the  other  : 
a  wavy  mass  of  soft,  dark  hair,  little  ringlets  about 
white  neck  and  brow,  lips  like  a  scarlet  pomegranate 
blossom,  and  long,  black  lashes  lying  on  an  ivory 
cheek,  where  the  pale  rose  was  fast  turning  to  crimson 
under  my  gaze. 

It  was  Pelagie!  Her  cheek  told  the  tale  that  she 
knew  I  was  looking  at  her,  yet  not  once  did  she  lift 
her  eyes  and  look  at  me.  I  wonder  that  my  heart  did 
not  break  through  my  breast,  so  great  a  bound  it 
made  when  I  discovered  her,  and  then  all  the  blood 
in  my  body  flowed  back  upon  it,  and  I  sat  on  Bourbon 
as  one  carved  in  marble,  while  friends  and  acquain 
tances  passed  by  and  smiled  up  at  me  in  kindly  wel 
come.  Not  until  Josef  Papin  left  the  ranks  and  came 
up  to  me  with  outstretched  hand  could  I  recover 
myself  and  begin  to  feel  alive  again,  with  the  blood 


UNDER  THE  OLD  FLAG  437 

slowly  running  back  in  its  courses  and  tingling  in  my 
finger-tips. 

"Come,"  he  said,  when  the  first  greetings  were 
over,  "tie  your  horse  to  the  tree,  and  we  will  fall  in  at 
the  end  of  the  line  and  go  up  to  the  church  together. 
This  is  no  saint's  day,  as  you  might  think,  but  we  are 
to  have  mass  for  the  last  time  under  the  old  rule.  The 
United  States  troops  come  over  to-day  from  Cahokia 
and  take  possession." 

This  was  wonderful  news  to  me,  and  I  could  not 
but  feel  a  great  sympathy  with  him,  for  he  spoke 
with  a  voice  that  faltered.  What  would  it  not  have 
meant  to  me  if  my  own  city  of  Philadelphia  were 
being  transferred  to  the  rule  of  France  or  Spain ! 

On  our  way  he  told  me  what  my  soul  most  longed 
to  hear:  how  mademoiselle  came  to  be  in  St.  Louis. 

Her  cousin,  the  Due  d'Enghien,  had  begun  to  feel 
that  his  home  was  no  longer  a  safe  place  for  her,  for 
Bonaparte's  spies  were  watching  him,  and  he  felt  that 
though  Baden  was  neutral  territory  he  might  at  any 
moment  be  arrested  and  thrown  into  prison.  That 
would  leave  Pelagie  entirely  unprotected,  and  he  had 
begun  to  consider  some  other  safer  retreat  for  her. 
When  mademoiselle  found  that  she  was  to  be  sent 
away  from  Ettenheim,  she  begged  that  she  might  re 
turn  to  St.  Louis,  the  only  place  she  had  known  as 
home,  and  to  the  people  she  loved,  who  had  been  to 
her  kindred  and  friends.  It  was  only  after  much 
pleading  that  the  duke  had  been  persuaded  to  let  her 
go  so  far  from  home  again,  but  mademoiselle's  heart 
was  set  on  it. 


438  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"And,"  said  Josef  Papin,  "as  we  both  know, 
when  she  will,  she  will;  I  defy  any  man  to  gainsay 
her.  She  arrived  two  weeks  ago  by  way  of  New  Or 
leans,  with  a  Monsieur  and  Madame  Dubois,  newly 
married,  I  believe,  who  were  coming  over  to  America 
to  settle." 

"Monsieur  and  Madame  Dubois!"  I  said,  in  some 
excitement. 

1 1  Yes ;  do  you  know  them  ? ' '  asked  Josef,  curiously. 

"I  am  not  sure.  I  may  have  met  them;  I  met  a 
Monsieur  and  Madame  Dubois  once  at  Chantilly  near 
Paris,"  I  answered  carelessly,  "but  very  likely  they 
are  not  the  same." 

"No,  they  could  not  be,"  answered  Josef,  "for 
they  were  married  only  just  before  leaving  for  Amer 
ica." 

And  then  there  was  no  chance  to  say  anything 
more,  for  our  end  of  the  procession  was  nearing  the 
church  door,  where  on  either  side  stood  Mademoiselle 
Chouteau  and  Pelagic,  holding  out  their  silver  plates 
already  piled  high  with  livres. 

As  I  glanced  at  Pelagic  I  felt  as  if  royalty  radiated 
from  her— from  the  proud  pose  of  her  dainty  head 
to  the  high-bred  arch  of  her  little  foot.  "A  princess 
of  Conde!"  I  exclaimed  to  myself  half  angrily,  "and 
meekly  holding  the  church  plate  for  negroes  and  In 
dians  and  humble  habitans,  and  smiling  up  into  the 
faces  of  her  old  friends  with  a  royal  sweetness." 

I  was  on  the  side  next  her  as  we  drew  near  the 
door.  Will  she  look  at  me?  I  wondered.  We  were 
the  last  in  the  line;  it  would  hinder  no  one  if  I 
stopped  a  moment  beside  her. 


UNDER  THE  OLD  FLAG  439 

But  I  could  not  make  her  look  up  at  me.  One  louis 
cPor  after  another  I  piled  upon  her  plate,  but  the 
only  effect  it  had  was  to  make  it  tremble  in  her 
hands  and  the  color  deepen  steadily  in  her  face.  I 
could  not  stand  there  gazing  rudely  at  her,  and  I 
went  into  the  church  beside  Josef  Papin  as  in  a 
dream,  half  doubting  it  was  mademoiselle,  yet  watch 
ing  her  eagerly  as  she  and  Mademoiselle  Chouteau 
bore  the  plates  up  the  aisle  and  held  them  aloft  be 
fore  the  altar  for  the  priest  to  bless. 

The  service  that  followed  was  indescribably  sol 
emn  and  touched  me  greatly ;  it  was  as  though  it  were 
a  service  for  the  dead,  and  the  people  (the  whole  vil 
lage  was  there,  every  man,  woman,  and  child  I  had 
known  the  year  before)  chanted  the  responses  with 
the  tears  running  down  their  cheeks.  Josef  Papin 
had  told  me  that  the  old  priest  who  had  baptized  all 
the  younger  generation  and  married  their  parents 
was  going  away  with  the  Spaniards,  unwilling  to  be 
subject  to  a  foreign  rule,  and  the  mourning  of  the 
people  for  their  father  was  from  the  heart. 

As  they  knelt  upon  the  floor  to  receive  the  benedic 
tion  (and  the  sound  of  their  kneeling  was  like  the 
breeze  among  the  dry  leaves  of  autumn)  they  broke 
out  into  a  long,  low  wail  that  rose  and  swelled  and 
then  died  away  in  the  sound  of  suppressed  sobbing. 
Nevermore  under  Latin  rule  would  they  kneel  in 
their  dear  old  church,  but  under  the  rule  of  the 
hated  Anglo-Saxons,  their  hereditary  foe.  Nevermore 
would  the  priest  they  had  loved  and  reverenced  for 
years  extend  his  hands  over  them  in  blessing.  The 
good  father's  voice  broke  again  and  again  as  he  tried 


440  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

in  vain  to  utter  the  familiar  words,  until  at  length, 
his  hands  upraised  to  heaven,  tears  streaming  from 
his  eyes,  he  uttered  the  simple  words,  "Go  in  peace, 
my  children/* 

I  was  near  the  door  and  I  slipped  quietly  out.  It 
was  not  a  time  to  meet  old  friends,  and  I  felt  like  one 
intruding  upon  a  house  of  mourning.  Heads  were 
still  bowed  in  the  solemn  hush  that  followed  the 
benediction  and  no  one  saw  me  go.  I  hurried  back  to 
where  I  had  left  Bourbon,  mounted  him,  and  rode 
slowly  up  toward  Government  House. 

Long  before  I  reached  it  the  streets  were  filled. 
With  the  quick  change  from  grave  to  gay,  natural 
to  these  volatile  Creoles,  the  same  people  that  a  few 
moments  ago  had  been  all  tears  and  sorrow  were  now 
all  excitement  and  curiosity.  Down  from  the  fort 
on  the  hill  marched  a  troop  of  Spanish  soldiers,  stop 
ping  at  Government  House  to  salute  the  governor, 
and  then  forming  in  company  order  in  front  of  the 
house  to  await  the  coming  of  the  United  States 
troops. 

Beside  Governor  Delassus  on  the  gallery  of  Gov 
ernment  House  stood  my  old  friend  Mr.  Meriwether 
Lewis;  for  he  seemed  an  old  friend  to  me,  though  I 
had  known  him  but  that  one  memorable  day  in  Wash 
ington.  In  response  to  a  friendly  wave  of  the  hand 
from  both  I  dismounted  and  ran  up  the  steps  to 
speak  to  them  for  a  moment.  They  presented  me  to 
a  third  officer,  Captain  Stoddard,  the  officer  in  com 
mand  of  the  United  States  troops  who  were  to  take 
possession,  and  also,  as  Governor  Delassus  informed 


UNDER  THE  OLD  FLAG  441 

me,  empowered  by  the  French  prefect  at  New  Or 
leans  to  receive  the  city  for  the  French  republic  from 
the  Spanish. 

I  stayed  only  a  moment,  for  Captain  Lewis  told  me 
I  would  find  Captain  Clarke  and  Dr.  Sau grain  at 
the  landing  at  the  foot  of  the  Rue  Bonhomme,  so  I 
followed  in  the  wake  of  the  motley  crowd  of  habi- 
tans,  negroes,  and  Indians  trooping  along  the  Rue 
Royale  and  filling  La  Place  with  a  many-colored 
throng,  as  they  had  filled  it  on  the  day  I  first  set  foot 
in  St.  Louis. 

Bourbon  Prince  picked  his  way  carefully  along  the 
steep  path  that  led  down  the  bluff  to  the  landing  at 
the  foot  of  the  Rue  Bonhomme,  where  the  boats  from 
Cahokia  bearing  the  United  States  troops  were  already 
approaching  the  shore,  and  where  I  found  awaiting 
them,  as  Captain  Lewis  had  said  I  should,  my  old 
friend,  the  little  doctor,  and  my  captain  (for  so  I 
shall  always  call  Captain  Clarke),  and  the  warmth 
of  their  greeting  set  my  heart  to  dancing  merrily. 

My  spirits  had  been  rising  steadily  every  moment 
since  I  had  recovered  from  my  stupefaction  at  the 
sight  of  Pelagic.  What  though  she  would  not  look  at 
me,  I  was  nothing  daunted;  for  now  that  she  was 
safe  on  American  soil,— yes,  American,  Spanish  no 
longer,— nor  chevaliers  nor  dukes  nor  First  Consuls 
should  deter  me  from  boldly  trying  to  win  her.  For 
the  first  time  since  I  had  known  her  I  felt  that  I  had 
a  right  to  try.  She  was  no  longer  a  titled  lady  of 
France,  and  I  was  now  my  own  master  and  could 
maintain  her  in  greater  luxury  than  she  had  ever 


442  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

known.  I  would  take  her  home  with  me  to  Philadel 
phia  !  and  my  dear  mother  and  my  fond  old  father 
would  love  her  as  they  loved  my  sisters.  My  spirit 
was  exultant,  and  that  she  dared  not  meet  my  eyes 
lent  more  of  hope  than  discouragement. 

So  it  was  with  a  happy  heart  that  I  met  the  little 
doctor's  beaming  glance,  and  felt  the  strong  grasp  of 
my  captain's  hand  as  he  uttered  his  hearty  "Wel 
come  home,  my  lad."  And  little  I  cared  that  he 
called  me  lad;  indeed,  had  he  addressed  me  by  any 
other  title  I  should  have  missed  some  of  the  friendli 
ness  of  his  greeting. 

"You  are  to  stay  at  Emigre's  Retreat,  you  know," 
said  Dr.  Saugrain;  "Madame  Saugrain  is  as  happy 
in  the  thought  of  your  home-coming  as  if  you  were 
her  own  boy. ' ' 

But  Josef  Papin  coming  down  the  bluff  at  that  mo 
ment  and  overhearing  the  doctor,  interposed: 

"No,  Dr.  Saugrain,  he  is  my  guest  this  time.  You 
had  him  all  last  winter,  and  you  have  had  Captain 
Clarke  and  Captain  Lewis  all  this  winter;  you  must 
share  some  of  your  honors  with  me." 

It  was  not  for  me  to  decide  a  question  of  such  kind, 
and  though  my  heart  turned  longingly  to  the  hos 
pitable  hearth  that  had  first  entertained  me  in  St. 
Louis,  feeling  that  in  no  other  house  would  it  seem  so 
truly  a  home-coming,  yet  I  was  not  sure  but  it  was 
better  that  it  was  finally  decided  that  I  should  stay 
with  Josef  Papin,  for  I  was  determined  to  put  my 
fortune  to  the  touch,  and  should  Pelagie  prove  un 
kind  (a  contingency,  however,  that  I  refused  to  con- 


UNDER  THE  OLD  FLAG  443 

template),  it  would  be  embarrassing  indeed  to  be 
under  the  same  roof  with  her. 

But  now  there  was  no  longer  time  for  discussion  of 
any  kind,  for  the  boats  were  running  their  keels  into 
the  bank,  and  Lieutenant  Worrall,  temporarily  in 
command  of  the  troops,  was  the  first  man  to  leap 
ashore.  We  all  went  down  to  meet  him,  and  when  he 
had  formed  his  battalion  in  line,  we  accompanied  him 
up  the  steep  bluff  and  down  the  Rue  Royale  to  Gov 
ernment  House,  a  great  throng  following. 

Then  Lieutenant  Worrall  drew  up  his  troops  fa 
cing  the  Spanish  troops.  The  open  space  where  the 
Rue  Royale  crossed  the  Rue  de  la  Tour  was  densely 
packed  with  people.  Every  man,  woman,  and  child 
of  the  village,  it  seemed  to  me,  must  be  there,  yet  I 
looked  in  vain  for  either  Madame  Saugrain  or  Pe- 
lagie.  I  fastened  Bourbon  farther  up  the  street,  and 
at  the  invitation  of  Governor  Delassus  sent  us  by  an 
orderly  I  accompanied  Dr.  Saugrain,  Josef  Papin, 
and  my  captain  to  the  gallery  of  Government  House, 
where  we  found  also  both  the  Chouteaus  and  many 
of  the  leading  citizens  of  the  village. 

As  soon  as  the  American  troops  were  drawn  up  in 
line,  Governor  Delassus  stepped  to  the  front  of  the 
gallery,  holding  in  his  hand  a  document  bearing  the 
seals  of  the  United  States  and  of  Spain,  and  at  a 
sign  from  him,  Captain  Stoddard  stepped  to  his  side, 
a  similar  document  in  his  hand.  Then  Governor  De 
lassus  held  the  paper  up  so  that  all  the  people  might 
see,  and,  as  every  voice  was  hushed  and  all  eyes 
turned  on  him,  he  read: 


444  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"Now  be  it  known  unto  all  men  by  these  presents 
that  I,  Carlos  D.  Delassus,  in  quality  of  lieutenant- 
governor,  at  the  requirement  duly  made  to  me  by 
Amos  Stoddard,  agent  and  commissary  of  the  French 
republic,  have  delivered  to  him  the  full  possession, 
sovereignty,  and  government  of  Upper  Louisiana, 
with  all  the  military  posts,  quarters,  and  fortifica 
tions  thereto  belonging  or  dependent  thereof." 

Immediately  Captain  Stoddard  took  up  the  refrain, 
reading  on  from  where  the  governor  stopped: 

"And  I,  Amos  Stoddard,  commissary  as  such,  do 
acknowledge  to  have  received  the  said  possession  on 
the  same  terms  mentioned  in  these  presents,  of  which 
I  acknowledge  myself  satisfied  and  possessed  on  this 
day.  In  testimony  whereof  the  lieutenant-governor 
and  myself  have  respectively  signed  these  presents, 
sealed  with  the  seal  of  our  arms,  being  assisted  with 
the  witnesses  signed  below.  Of  which  proceedings  six 
copies  have  been  made  out,  to  wit,  three  in  the  Span 
ish  and  three  in  the  English  languages. 

"Given  in  the  town  of  St.  Louis  of  Illinois,  9th 
March,  1804. 

"AMOS  STODDARD  (seal) 

"CARLOS  DEHAULT  DELASSUS          (seal) 
"In  presence  of 

Meriwether  Lewis, 

Captain  First  United  States  Regiment  Infantrj. 

Antoine  Soulard, 

Surveyor-General,  etc. 

Charles  Gratiot." 


UNDER  THE  OLD  FLAG  445< 

As  Captain  Stoddard  finished  reading,  the  gov 
ernor  turned  to  him  and  with  formal  courtesy  placed 
him  in  possession  of  Government  House.  Captain 
Stoddard  accepted  it  with  a  brief  and  appropriate 
speech,  and  then,  the  silence  still  unbroken,  the 
stately  don  turned  once  more  to  the  people  and  spoke 
to  them  directly: 
"Inhabitants  of  Upper  Louisiana: 

"By  the  king's  command  I  am  about  to  deliver  up 
this  post  and  its  dependencies ! 

"The  flag  under  which  you  have  been  protected  for 
a  period  of  nearly  thirty-six  years  is  to  be  withdrawn. 
From  this  moment  you  are  released  from  the  oath  of 
fidelity  you  took  to  support  it." 

There  was  a  stir  among  the  people.  Tears  were 
running  down  the  weather-beaten  faces  of  some  of 
the  older  men,  and  many  of  the  women  were  sobbing 
quietly.  Visibly  moved  himself,  the  governor  added 
another  word: 

"The  fidelity  and  courage  with  which  you  have 
guarded  and  defended  the  flag  will  never  be  for 
gotten;  and  in  my  character  of  representative  I  en 
tertain  the  most  sincere  wishes  for  your  perfect  pros 
perity." 

The  governor  bowed  and  stepped  back,  and  in 
stantly  there  broke  from  the  people  a  storm  of  adios 
and  benitos  with  tears  and  waving  of  hands. 

The  governor  motioned  to  a  soldier  standing  by. 
The  soldier  stepped  to  a  corner  of  the  gallery  which 
could  be  seen  from  the  fort  on  the  hill,  and  waved  his 


446  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

hat.  Instantly  puffs  of  white  smoke  issued  from  the 
full  battery  of  the  fort,  followed  by  the  roar  of  the 
cannon  rolling  across  the  wide  river  to  the  distant 
bluffs  of  Cahokia.  As  the  last  echo  died  away  the 
soldier  waved  his  hat  once  more.  Slowly  the  flag  of 
Spain  floating  above  the  white  tower  sank.  Once 
more  the  cannon  roared,  and  slowly  the  banner  of 
France  rose,  higher  and  higher,  until  its  folds  were 
flung  proudly  to  the  breeze,  above  the  tower  on  the 
hill,  above  the  Great  River,  above  the  old  French 
town  where  it  had  floated  thirty-six  years  before. 

Almost  every  soul,  save  negroes  and  Indians,  in 
that  multitude  watching  in  breathless  silence  the  ex 
change  of  the  flags,  was  French,  and  as  the  banner  of 
the  land  they  had  never  ceased  to  love  and  to  call 
home  floated  out  on  the  breeze,  with  one  accord  they 
fell  on  their  knees,  eyes  streaming,  arms  outstretched 
toward  the  loved  symbol  of  their  fatherland. 

It  had  been  the  intention  that  the  flag  should  re 
main  there  but  a  few  minutes— just  long  enough  to 
show  that  Upper  Louisiana  was  French,  and  that 
France  ceded  it  to  the  United  States.  But  now  Pierre 
and  Auguste  Chouteau,  the  older  Papin,  Dr.  Sau- 
grain,  all  the  leading  citizens  on  the  gallery  of  Gov 
ernment  House,  gathered  around  Captain  Stoddard 
and  begged  him,  with  trembling  voices  and  misty  eyes, 
to  let  the  old  flag  stay  for  another  day. 

"Let  us  be  Frenchmen  for  twenty- four  hours," 
they  begged,  "and  after  that  we  will  try  to  be  loyal 
citizens  of  the  United  States,  as  we  have  been  loyal 
citizens  of  Spain." 


UNDER  THE  OLD  FLAG  447 

When  Captain  Lewis  and  Captain  Clarke  added 
their  plea  for  the  Frenchmen,  Captain  Stoddard  will 
ingly  granted  it,  and  stepping  to  the  front  of  the 
gallery,  he  announced  that  for  twenty-four  hours  the 
flag  of  the  French  republic  would  float  over  St.  Louis. 

Then  broke  forth  a  delirium  of  joy.  Men  threw 
their  arms  around  one  another  and  embraced  and 
kissed  in  a  fashion  strange,  indeed,  to  us  Anglo- 
Saxons;  and  women  fell  into  one  another's  arms  and 
sobbed.  The  roar  of  the  cannon  had  not  ceased  to  roll 
over  the  heads  of  the  people  at  intervals  of  every  two 
minutes,  and  now  the  United  States  troops  took  their 
line  of  march  up  the  Rue  de  la  Tour  to  the  fort  on 
the  hill  (for  though  the  American  flag  did  not  float 
from  it,  they  were  to  hold  it  in  the  name  of  France); 
and  the  Spanish  troops  marched  away. 

The  ceremonies  for  the  day  were  over;  the  cannon 
ceased  to  roar,  and  Captain  Stoddard,  who  was  now 
in  possession  of  Government  House,  invited  us  all  to 
stay  to  dejeuner.  The  meal  was  a  long  and  ceremo 
nious  one,  with  the  Spanish  don  on  Captain  Stod 
dard 's  right  and  one  of  the  Chouteaus  on  his  left, 
and  I  far  down  the  table  with  some  of  the  younger 
men;  and  through  it  all  I  was  thinking  of  that  first 
meal  I  had  taken  in  St.  Louis  in  this  same  Govern 
ment  House  a  year  and  a  half  before,  and  of  the 
toast  that  roused  such  enthusiasm  then;  and  every 
moment  my  impatience  grew  to  get  away  and  visit 
Emigre's  Retreat  and  Madame  Saugrain,  and— the 
Rose  of  St.  Louis. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

THE  ROSE  OF   ST.   LOUIS 

41  What 's  in  a  name  ?  that  which  we  call  a  rose 
By  any  other  name  would  smell  as  sweet." 

BUT  my  impatience  was  of  little  avail,  for  before 
we  left  Government  House  Dr.  Saugrain  invited 
me  to  dinner  at  Emigre's  Retreat,  and  restless  and 
impatient  as  I  might  be,  I  did  not  dare  show  myself 
there  until  the  dinner-hour. 

Five  o  'clock  found  me  sitting  in  the  dear  old  living- 
room,  awaiting  with  trembling  the  entrance  of  ma- 
dame  and  Pelagie.  It  was  the  same  dear  old  room  I 
had  pictured  to  myself  so  often,  and  all  the  grand 
salons  of  Paris  that  I  had  seen  since  last  I  saw  it  did 
not  make  it  look  any  the  less  cozy  and  homelike  to  my 
eyes.  It  was  a  warm  spring  afternoon,  and  the  west 
ern  windows  were  open,  and  the  white  curtains  were 
stirring  in  the  breeze,  only  there  was  no  maiden  in 
white  on  the  low  seat  by  the  window,  and  no  guitar 
and  no  Leon. 

I  had  but  a  moment  to  wait.  The  door  opened  and 
in  came  madame,  both  hands  outstretched  and  run 
ning  to  meet  me,  and  as  I  bent  low  before  her,  taking 
my  face  in  both  her  hands  and  putting  a  kiss  on  my 

448 


THE  ROSE  OF  ST.  LOUIS  449 

cheek  and  calling  me  ''My  son."  And  behind  her 
came  Pelagic,  walking  slowly  but  looking  up  at  me, 
yes,  looking  at  me  at  last,  with  starry  eyes  and  a 
great  pulse  throbbing  in  her  snowy  throat,  and  little 
tongues  of  color  coming  and  going  in  her  cheeks.  I 
was  almost  of  a  mind  there,  right  before  madame,  to 
take  her  in  my  arms  and  call  her  mine,  for  mine  I 
was  determined  she  should  be;  and  I  looked  at  her 
with  such  a  threatening  glance  I  think  she  divined 
my  half-purpose  and  shrank  back  a  little. 

So  instead  I  merely  bowed  over  her  hand  and  said 
gaily : 

"You  condescend  to  look  at  me  at  last,  mademoi 
selle;  I  feared  to-day  I  was  to  be  forever  banished 
from  your  friendly  glances." 

And  she,  relieved  from  her  first  apprehension,  an 
swered  saucily : 

"If  monsieur  comes  unannounced,  how  can  he  ex 
pect  to  be  recognized  after  so  many  months  of  ab 
sence?" 

And  then  in  stalked  majestically  Leon,  limping 
very  slightly,  and  when  he  caught  sight  of  me  coming 
up  to  me  and  sniffing  at  me  a  moment,  and  then 
springing  upon  me  with  such  wild  bounds  of  delight 
that  I  had  to  call  hold,  lest  his  great  paws  play  havoc 
with  my  fine  Paris  clothes  that  I  had  donned  in  made 
moiselle  's  honor.  And  to  quiet  him  I  said  in  a  high, 
email  voice,  in  palpable  burlesque  of  mademoiselle  : 

"Taise-toi,  mon  ange!"  and  we  both  laughed  mer 
rily. 

I  was  so  happy  that  I  was  ready  to  do  everything 

29 


450  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

that  was  foolish,  and  I  believe  mademoiselle  was 
happy,  too,  for  nothing  that  I  did  was  too  foolish  for 
her  to  laugh  at. 

Then  in  came  the  little  doctor,  running  up  to  me 
and  insisting  on  embracing  me  (because  I  was  in  his 
own  house),  pulling  down  my  head  and  kissing  me 
on  each  cheek,  at  which  I  blushed  greatly,  though  I 
had  not  blushed  when  madame  kissed  me.  And 
then  came  my  captain  and  Captain  Lewis,  and  every 
one  talked  at  once,  asking  all  manner  of  questions  on 
all  manner  of  subjects,  and  I  had  scarcely  a  chance  to 
say  another  word  to  Pelagie. 

And  then  came  dinner.  As  usual,  madame  put 
me  beside  her,  and  Pelagie  sat  at  the  other  end  of  the 
table.  But  there  was  no  scorning  this  time,  and  I  had 
better  chance  to  look  at  her  than  if  she  sat  beside 
me,  and  perhaps  that  was  best,  for  my  eyes  could  say 
to  her  much  more  than  my. lips  would  dare  in  such 
a  company. 

Narcisse  waited  on  the  table,  and  was  all  smiles  of 
welcome;  and  half-way  through  dinner,  on  some  pre 
text  or  other,  in  came  Clotilde,  and  greeted  me,  half 
crying  through  her  smiles  at  memory  of  our  trials 
together.  And  last  of  all  came  Yorke,  grinning  from 
ear  to  ear,  and  "declarin'  to  gracious  I  'd  growed  a 
foot  sence, ' '  whereupon  I  was  of  a  mind  to  thrash  him 
on  the  spot,  and  told  him  so,  which  made  him  grin 
the  more,  if  that  were  possible. 

It  was  a  grand  dinner,  and  I  told  Madame  Saugrain 
I  had  never  tasted  in  Paris  anything  half  so  good  as 
her  wild  turkey  and  croquecignolles  and  gooseberry 


THE  ROSE  OF  ST.  LOUIS  451 

wine,  which  I  meant  with  all  my  heart,  and  which 
greatly  pleased  her  housewifely  soul. 

Back  in  the  living-room,  when  dinner  was  over,  I 
missed  something,  and  looked  around  the  room  to  dis 
cover  what  it  was.  It  was  the  long  French  mirror 
in  which  I  had  once  watched  Pelagie— the  pride  of 
madame's  heart. 

"Why,  madame,"  I  said,  "what  have  you  done 
with  your  mirror  ? ' ' 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  looked  ruefully  at 
her  husband. 

"Antoine, "  she  said,  "needed  some  quicksilver  for 
his  experiments.  Voila !  my  mirror ! ' ' 

I  glanced  at  Dr.  Saugrain;  he  blushed  and  looked 
guilty,  and  so,  for  some  reason,  I  thought,  did  Captain 
Lewis. 

"I  will  explain,"  said  my  captain.  "You  must 
know,  my  lad,  that  these  two,"  indicating  the  doctor 
and  Captain  Lewis  with  a  wave  of  his  hand,  "have 
been  confederates  all  winter  in  black  art.  They  have 
lived  in  the  laboratory,  and  the  instruments  they  have 
evolved  for  our  trip  up  the  Missouri  and  over  the 
mountains  are  fearful  and  wonderful  to  behold.  We 
are  each  of  us  provided  with  a  box  of  little  phosphorus 
sticks  by  which  we  are  to  do  away  entirely  with  all 
use  of  tinder.  But  much  more  wonderful  than  those, 
out  c.  madame's  mirror  Dr.  Saugrain  has  fashioned 
little  glass  tubes  holding  quicksilver,  and  with  a  mea 
sure  laid  off  on  the  side  by  which  we  may  be  able  to  tell 
just  how  hot  or  how  cold  it  may  be.  And  more  won 
derful  still,  he  has  fashioned  other  little  tubes  by 


452  THE  ROSE   OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

which  we  are  to  tell  when  it  is  going  to  storm  and 
when  it  will  be  fair  weather.  And  I  cannot  begin  to 
tell  you  all  the  wonderful  appliances  this  magician 
has  fashioned  for  our  comfort  and  safety  this  winter, 
aided  and  abetted  by  his  willing  slave,  Captain 
Lewis. '  ' 

That  unloosed  the  doctor's  tongue,  and  there  was 
no  getting  away  the  rest  of  the  evening  from  the 
wonders  of  science ;  and  so  strange  were  the  things  he 
and  Captain  Lewis  had  to  tell  of  what  science  could 
do  that  I  could  have  greatly  enjoyed  their  talk  had 
I  not  been  longing  for  a  few  words  with  Pelagie. 

I  determined  that  another  day  should  not  go  by 
without  my  having  them,  and  so,  in  the  course  of  the 
evening,  I  managed  to  ask  her  if  she  would  ride  with 
me  the  next  afternoon  to  Chouteau's  Pond.  A  riding- 
party  of  two  to  Chouteau's  Pond  was  of  frequent  oc 
currence  in  the  village,  and  I  would  not  have  feared 
a  refusal  but  that  Pelagie  had  now  been  living  so 
long  where  stricter  social  forms  prevailed,  so  I 
awaited  her  answer  with  trembling.  But  she  gave  a 
shy  assent,  and  for  me  the  evening  at  Emigre's  Re 
treat  was  a  grand  success. 

Twelve  o'clock  the  next  day,  March  the  tenth,  saw 
us  all  once  more  at  Government  House ;  and  once  more 
the  American  troops  were  drawn  up  before  it,  and 
once  more  the  people  filled  the  streets. 

The  people  were  very  quiet;  there  was  no  longer 
any  rejoicing ;  but  every  eye  was  lifted  to  the  flag  that 
was  so  soon  to  sink  from  sight. 

There  were  many   Indians  in  the   streets,— Dela- 


THE  ROSE  OF  ST.  LOUIS  453 

wares,  Sacs,  Shawnees,  and  others,— attracted  to  the 
town  by  the  noise  of  firing  the  day  before.  Captain 
Stoddard  had  asked  Governor  Delassus  to  speak  to 
them  and  explain  to  them  the  change  of  government, 
and  the  soldiers  had  been  sent  to  gather  them  up 
close  to  the  gallery  of  Government  House,  where  Don 
Delassus  might  speak  to  them.  A  dark-faced  throng, 
serious  of  countenance,  they  stood  looking  up  at  us, 
not  a  muscle  of  their  countenances  changing  while 
the  governor  spoke  to  them  in  the  formal  and  stately 
fashion  they  loved. 

"Delawares,    Sacs,    Shawnees,   and   others,   my   red 
brothers : 

"Your  old  fathers,  the  Spaniard  and  the  French 
man,  grasp  by  the  hand  your  new  father,  the  head 
chief  of  the  United  States.  By  an  act  of  their  good 
will,  and  in  virtue  of  their  last  treaty,  I  have  deliv 
ered  up  to  them  all  these  lands.  They  will  keep  and 
defend  them,  and  protect  all  the  white  and  redskins 
who  live  thereon.  You  will  live  as  happily  as  if  the 
Spaniard  were  still  here. 

"I  have  informed  your  new  father,  who  here  takes 
my  place,  that  the  Delawares,  Shawnees,  and  Sacs 
have  always  conducted  themselves  well;  that  the 
chiefs  have  always  restrained  their  young  men  as 
much  as  possible. 

"For  several  days  we  have  fired  off  cannon  to  an 
nounce  to  all  the  nations  that  your  father  the  Span 
iard  is  going,  his  heart  happy  to  know  that  you  will 
be  protected  and  sustained  by  your  new  father,  and 
that  the  smoke  of  the  powder  may  ascend  to  the 


454  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

Maker  of  life,  praying  him  to  shower  on  you  all  a 
happy  destiny  and  prosperity  in  always  living  in 
good  union  with  the  whites. ' ' 

There  were  many  guttural  "Ughs!"  as  he  finished, 
and  I  think,  from  the  way  the  dark  eyes  scanned  the 
faces  of  the  new  officers,  they  comprehended  at  least 
a  part  of  what  had  been  said  to  them. 

Once  more  a  soldier  at  the  corner  of  the  gallery 
waved  his  hat  toward  the  white  tower ;  once  more  the 
cannon  boomed  and  slowly  the  tricolor  of  France 
descended,  while  the  Stars  and  Stripes  rose  to  meet  it. 
Half-way  up  the  flagstaff  they  stopped.  For  a  mo 
ment  they  floated  in  the  breeze,  side  by  side,  and  an 
involuntary  cheer  sprang  from  the  people  at  the 
friendly  sight.  Then  slowly  the  tricolor  sank,  and 
slowly  rose  the  starry  banner,  flinging  out  its  broad 
bars  of  white  and  crimson,  beautiful  emblem  of  liberty 
and  the  sovereignty  of  a  free  people,  over  the  little  vil 
lage,  nestling  among  the  trees  on  the  bluffs,  that  may 
one  day  be  a  mighty  city ;  over  the  Great  River  flowing 
to  the  Gulf  that  a  not  far  future  may  see  bearing  the 
commerce  of  a  world  on  its  bosom;  over  the  broad 
prairies  stretching  to  the  distant  mountains  which 
coming  years  will  surely  see  peopled  with  happy  mil 
lions. 

My  heart  swelled  within  me.  I  swung  my  hat  high 
in  the  air  and  lustily  led  the  cheers  of  our  troops  and 
our  little  party  on  the  gallery.  But  we  were  only  a 
small  band,  and  we  made  not  much  noise,  and  all  the 
French  and  Spaniards  stood  and  looked  sadly  on. 
And  because  our  hearts  were  touched  by  their  sorrow, 


THE  ROSE  OF  ST.  LOUIS  455 

we  cheered  no  more,  but  looked  up  at  our  beautiful 
banner  with  pride  and  joy  and  love  in  our  hearts. 

Three  hours  later  I  was  sitting  on  the  gallery  at 
Emigre's  Retreat  waiting  for  mademoiselle,  as  I  had 
waited  for  her  on  the  day  of  the  picnic  at  Chouteau's 
Pond.  Narcisse  was  holding  Bourbon  Prince  by  the 
driveway  below,  and  I  was  struggling  to  preserve  a 
calm  exterior,  for  my  heart  was  going  like  a  trip 
hammer  while  I  listened  for  my  lady's  coming. 

Out  upon  the  gallery  she  stepped,  riding-habit  and 
hat  and  veil  of  latest  Paris  mode— not  the  little  Pela- 
gie  of  the  picnic  day,  but  Pelagie  a  princess  of  Conde, 
and  my  heart  almost  failed  me. 

I  looked  at  her,  and  she  was  smiling  at  me  with  a 
smile  I  did  not  understand.  Then  she  looked  away, 
and  my  eyes  followed  hers.  Around  the  corner  of  the 
house  Yorke  was  leading  a  horse,— a  white  star  on 
the  forehead  and  one  white  foot  like  Bourbon  Prince, 
but  beautiful  chestnut  in  color.  For  a  moment  I  for 
got  my  lady.  Down  the  steps  I  sprang,  and  my  arm 
was  around  the  neck  of  the  chestnut  mare. 

"Sweetheart!"  I  whispered  in  her  ear.  "Do  you 
know  me,  sweetheart?" 

She  whinnied  with  joy  and  rubbed  her  soft  muzzle 
up  and  down  my  arm,  and  whinnied  again,  while 
Yorke  showed  all  his  teeth  in  his  delight,  and  my 
lady  laughed  and  clapped  her  hands  like  a  happy 
child. 

I  had  not  thought  it  possible  she  could  bring  Fa- 
tima  with  her  and  so  had  not  asked  for  her,  though, 


456  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

truth  to  tell,  I  had  had  but  little  chance  to  ask  her 
about  anything. 

When  I  said  so  to  her,  "I  would  not  have  come 
without  her,"  she  said,  looking  shyly  at  me.  "But  I 
hope  you  do  not  want  her  back,  for  I  love  her  dearly. ' ' 

Yes,  I  wanted  her  back,  I  said  to  myself;  but  with 
her  mistress,  too ;  but  my  only  answer  to  mademoiselle 
was  a  smile  that  I  think  she  understood,  for  she  looked 
quickly  away  from  me. 

Then  I  put  her  on  Fatima's  back,  who  bore  a  Pa 
risian  saddle  now  instead  of  a  pillion,  and  out  through 
the  stockade  we  rode,  and  down  the  rough  path  to  La 
Petite  Riviere,  and  through  the  ford  (deeper  now, 
from  spring  freshets,  than  it  had  been  when  I  lis 
tened  to  the  whippoorwills),  and  along  the  wooded 
bank  on  the  other  side,  where  we  had  raced  to  get 
away  from  the  redskin  (though  that  she  never  knew), 
and  still  I  had  not  said  the  words  I  meant  to  say. 

Under  the  tree  that  had  been  the  goal  for  our  race 
I  drew  up  a  minute.  Here,  I  thought,  will  be  a  place 
of  happy  omen,  for  here  I  won  my  first  dance  with 
her,  and  here  I  will  win  her.  But  suddenly  I  recalled 
that  this  was  the  spot  where  I  had  first  seen  the  cheva 
lier;  no,  it  was  of  evil  omen.  "By  hairbreadth  es 
capes  we  always  win,"  he  had  said.  I  feared  the 
' '  luck  of  the  Le  Moynes ' '  and  their  baleful  motto. 

Where  we  had  stopped  to  look  at  the  lake  before, 
I  stopped  again.  It  was  almost  more  beautiful  in  its 
setting  of  the  soft  pinks  and  greens  of  early  spring 
than  it  had  been  under  the  golden  sun  of  autumn,  and 
here,  I  thought,  I  will  say  it.  But  the  glimpse  of  the 


THE  ROSE  OF  ST.  LOUIS  457 

ivied  mill  tower  among  the  trees,  and  the  beautiful 
water  and  its  wooded  banks,  reminded  Pelagie  of 
Ettenheim,  and  she  began  to  tell  me  of  a  letter  she 
had  just  received  from  the  Due  d'Enghien,  which 
made  her  very  anxious. 

"He  writes,"  said  Pelagie,  ''that  he  is  being  fol 
lowed  everywhere  by  an  Englishman  who,  he  feels 
sure,  is  a  spy  in  the  pay  of  Bonaparte— I  will  never 
call  him  emperor!"  said  Pelagie,  with  fiery  eye. 
"And  while  he  says  he  feels  no  alarm  for  himself,  he 
is  more  and  more  glad  to  think  that  I  am  so  safely 
away  from  all  dangers." 

But  the  thought  of  her  letter  had  saddened  Pelagie 
for  a  while,  and  I  would  not  speak  then.  How  little 
we  dreamed  that  on  that  very  day,  perhaps  at  that 
very  hour,  the  young  duke  was  being  seized  by  Napo 
leon's  emissaries,  in  violation  of  all  treaties  of  neu 
trality,  and  hurried  to  the  gloomy  fortress  of  Vin- 
cennes,  where,  ten  days  later,  after  a  mock  trial  of 
two  hours  in  the  dead  of  night,  with  no  chance  of 
defense  given  him,  he  was  taken  out  and  shot  and 
buried  in  the  trench  where  he  fell.  When  the  dread 
ful  news  reached  us,  weeks  later,  it  darkened  for 
a  while  my  sweet  Pelagie 's  life,  as  it  was  the  one 
crime  not  even  the  friends  of  Napoleon  can  excuse  or 
forgive :  the  one  dark  blot  on  his  fame  time  will  never 
erase. 

But  that  afternoon  we  were  in  happy  ignorance  of 
what  was  happening  four  thousand  miles  away,  and 
Pelagie's  sadness  was  but  a  passing  shadow  and  in  a 
little  while  we  were  Both  joyous  again. 


458  THE  BOSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"Rock  Spring,"  I  thought,  "beloved  of  lovers,  will 
be  the  place."  But  at  Bock  Spring  I  could  think  of 
nothing  but  Yorke  astride  the  chevalier's  back,  the 
grimy  spectacle  the  chevalier  presented  when  Yorke 
was  dislodged,  and  then  the  fearful  peril  Pelagic 
had  been  in  when  I  fled  with  her  in  my  arms  on  Fa- 
tima's  back.  No,  Rock  Spring  was  not  the  place. 

And  so  we  were  once  more  back  at  the  ford,  almost 
home,  and  the  long  shadows  lying  on  the  cool  water, 
and  a  thrush  singing  his  evening-song  in  the  wooded 
crests  behind  us,  and  my  tale  had  not  been  told.  We 
had  had  much  sweet  converse,  and  many  times  the 
words  were  on  my  lips,  but  somehow— I  know  not  how 
—Pelagic  always  managed  to  turn  me  aside.  At  least 
I  think  she  did,  for  with  the  words  on  my  lips  I  would 
find  myself  talking  of  something  else. 

Now,  as  our  horses  swashed  their  noses  in  the  cool 
water,  and  sent  the  bright  drops  in  showers  about  us, 
I  looked  down  upon  her,  the  dark  green  of  her  rid 
ing-habit  making  a  rich  foil  to  the  soft  glow  of  her 
cheek,  and  the  drooping  plume  of  her  hat  falling  over 
her  snowy  neck  and  mingling  with  the  dark  ringlets, 
and  one  little  hand  from  which  she  had  drawn  the 
glove  playing  with  Fatima's  tawny  mane— and  I 
took  a  sudden  resolution. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "do  you  know  that  to-day 
you  are  no  longer  a  proud  lady  of  France,  but  a  sim 
ple  American  maiden?" 

She  looked  up  at  me,  startled.  I  think  she  knew 
what  was  coming,  but  she  answered  bravely,  though 
softly : 


THE  ROSE  OF  ST.  LOUIS  459 

"Yes,  monsieur,"  and  then  dropped  her  eyes  and 
fell  to  playing  with  Fatima's  mane  again. 

"Mademoiselle,  do  you  remember  on  La  Belle  Ri 
viere  the  wager  you  would  not  let  me  make  ? ' ' 

"Yes,  monsieur,"  still  more  softly. 

"Mademoiselle,  if  I  had  made  that  wager  then  I 
would  have  won  it  to-day.  You  taught  me  better,  and 
I  would  not  win  you  by  a  wager  now  if  I  could.  But 
oh,  mademoiselle,  you  said  by  worth  and  deeds  of 
prowess  a  maiden's  hand  should  be  won;  and  there  is 
no  one  in  the  world— least  of  all  I— worthy  of  you, 
mademoiselle,  and  no  deeds  of  prowess  could  be  grand 
enough  to  deserve  you,  and  I  have  nothing  to  win  you 
with  but  my  great  love ;  will  that  avail  me,— Pelagic?" 

She  did  not  answer  for  a  moment ;  she  was  all  rosy 
and  drooping,  and  with  a  happy  smile  about  her  lips, 
as  she  had  been  in  the  cabinet  of  the  First  Consul. 

I  put  my  great  hand  on  her  little  one,  still  playing 
with  Fatima's  mane,  and  clasped  it  tight,  though  it 
fluttered  like  a  bird  at  first  and  then  lay  quiet. 

"Pelagie,  Pelagic,  look  up  at  me,"  I  whispered. 
"I  may  call  you  Pelagie,  may  I  not?" 

Swiftly  and  shyly  she  looked  up  into  my  eyes,  and 
I  looked  down  into  heaven. 

"Yes,  monsieur,"  she  whispered. 

Suddenly  she  broke  into  a  low  laugh,  and  tried  to 
draw  her  hand  away  from  mine. 

"My  name  is  not  Pelagie,"  she  said. 

"Not  Pelagie!"  I  exclaimed,  thinking  she  was 
playing  me  some  merry  trick,  and  wishing  she  had 
chosen  some  other  time  to  play  it. 


460  THE  ROSE  OF  OLD  ST.  LOUIS 

"No,  monsieur, "  she  said  soberly.  "They  named 
me  Pelagic  when  they  brought  me  over  sea,  but  my 
name  is  Louise  Adelaide,  for  my  aunt  the  Abbess  of 
B-emiremont. ' ' 

I  was  silent  for  a  moment,  for  I  liked  not  to  think 
of  little  Pelagic  by  any  other  name.  Then  I  gently 
took  her  hand  again  and  raised  it  to  my  lips : 

"Louise  Adelaide,"  I  said,  "may  do  for  a  princess 
of  Conde,  but  you  will  always  be  my  little  Pelagic  to 
me,"  and  so  great  was  the  love  in  my  heart  that  my 
voice  trembled  as  I  spoke,  and  we  were  both  very  still 
for  a  little,  while  her  hand  lay  quietly  in  mine. 

Suddenly  a  thought  struck  me : 

"Pelagic,"  I  said,  "you  have  never  spoken  my 
name;  I  do  not  believe  you  know  what  it  is." 

"Yes,  I  do,  monsieur."  She  looked  up  at  me  sau 
cily.  "Shall  I  tell  you  what  it  is?" 

"Call  me  by  it!"  I  implored  her  softly. 

For  answer  she  lifted  her  arms  and  drew  my  head 
down  toward  her  and  whispered  it  in  my  ear. 

And  I,  what  did  I  do  ? 

What  would  any  man  have  done  whose  heart  was 
running  over  with  love  for  the  most  adorable  maiden 
in  the  world,  and  her  sweet  face  so  near  ? 


THE  GROSSET  &  DUNLAP 
ILLUSTRATED  'EDITIONS 
OF  FAMOUS  BOOKS  0  a  a 


The  following  books  are  large  iimo   volumes  S^xS^  inches  in 

size,  arc  printed  on  laid  paper  of  the  highest  grade,  and  bound  in  cloth, 

*  with  elaborate  decorative  covers.     They  are  in  every  respect  beautiful 

books. 

UNCLE  TOM'S  CABIN— By  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe. 

A  new  edition,  printed  from  entirely  new  plates,  on  fine  laid  paper 
of  extra  quality,  with  half-tone  illustrations  by  Louis  Betts. 

PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS— By  John  Bunyan. 

A  new  edition  of  Bunyan's  immortal  allegory,  printed  from  new 
plates  on  fine  laid  paper,  with  illustrations  by  H.  M.  Brock. 

THE  WIDE,  WIDE  WORLD— By  Susan  Warner. 

Printed  from  entirely  new  plates,  on  fine  laid  paper  of  superior 
quality,  and  illustrated  with  numerous  drawings  by  Fred  Pegram. 

THE  LITTLE  MINISTER  (Maude  Adams  Edition) 
— By  J.  M.  Barrie. 

Printed  on  fine  laid  paper,  large  izmo  in  size,  with  new  cover  de 
sign  in  gold,  and  eight  full-page  half  tone  illustrations  from  the  play. 

PROSE  TALES— By  Edgar  Allan  Poe. 

A  large  iamo  volume,  bound  in  cloth,  with  decorative  cover. 
Containing  eleven  striking  drawings  by  Alice  B.  Woodward,  a  biog 
raphy  of  the  author,  a  bibliography  of  the  Tales,  and  comprehensive 
notes.  The  best  edition  ever  published  in  a  single  volume. 

ISHMAEL  >  By  Mrs.  E.  D.  E.  N.  Southworth. 

SELF-RAISED       j    The  two  rols.  in  a  flat  box,  or  boxed  separately. 
Handsome  new  editions  of  these  two  old  favorites,  with  illustrations 
by  Clare  Angell 

THE  FIRST  VIOLIN— By  Jessie  Fothergill. 

A  fine  edition  of  this  popular  musical  novel,  with  illustrations  by 
Clare  Angell. 

EACH  VOLUME  IN  A  BOX.  PRICE  ONE  DOLLAR  EACH 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP    ::    NEW  YORK 


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LORNA       DOONE 

EXMOOR  EDITION.        By  R.  D.  BLACKMORE 

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bound  in  cloth,  with  decorative  cover  of  floral  design, 
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excellent  quality,  and  embellished  with  over  two  hundred 
and  fifty  drawings,  initial  letters,  head  and  tail  pieces,  etc., 
by  some  of  the  best  American  Artists,  among  whom  are 
Henry  Sandham,  George  Wharton  Edwards,  W.  H. 
Drake,  Harry  Fenn,  and  Wm.  Hamilton  Gibson.  Un 
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' PRICE,  BOXED,  ONE  DOLLAR. 

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__  PRICE  Two  DOLLARS  PER  SET. 

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Encased  in  a  flat  box.  s 

PRICE  FIVE  DOLLARS  PER  SET. 

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THE    POPULAR   NOVELS  OF 

A.  w.  MARCHMONT 

NOW  OFFERED  IN  HANDSOMELY  MADE 
CLOTH  BOUND  EDITIONS  AT  LOW  PRICES 

Few  writers  of  recent  years  have  achieved  such  a  wide 
popularity  in  this  particular  field  as  has  Mr.  Marchmont. 
For  rattling  good  stories  of  love,  intrigue,  adventure, 
plots  and  counter-plots,  we  know  of  nothing  better,  and 
to  the  reader  who  has  become  surfeited  with  the  analyti 
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commend  them.  There  is  life,  movement,  animation, 
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make  you  forget  your  troubles. 

The  following  five   volumes   are    now  ready    in  our 
popular  copyright  series: 

BY  RIGHT  OF  SWORD 

With  illustrations  by  POWELL  CHASE. 

A  DASH  FOR  A  THRONE 

With  illustrations  by  D<  MURRAY  SMITH. 

MISER  HOADLEY'S  SECRET 

With  illustrations  by  CLARE  ANGELL. 

THE  PRICE  OF  FREEDOM 

With  illustrations  by  CLARE  ANGELL. 

THE  HERITAGE  OF  PERIL 

With  illustrations  by  EDITH  LESLIE  LANG. 
Large  I  imo  in  size,  handsomely  bound  in  cloth, 

uniform  in  style. 
Price  75  cents  per    volume,  postpaid. 

GROSSET    &     DUNLAP,    PUBLISHERS 

52  Duane  Street  ::  ::  NEW  YORK 


POPULAR    PRICED   EDITIONS    OF    BOOKS 
BY 

LOUIS    TRACY 

I2mo,  cloth,  75  cents  each,  postpaid 

Books  that  make  the  nerves  tingle — romance   and  ad 
venture  of  the  best  type — wholesome   for  family  reading 


THE  PILLAR  OF  LIGHT 

"  Breathless  interest  is  a  hackneyed  phrase,  but  every 
reader  of  '  The  Pillar  of  Light '  who  has  red  blood  in 
his  or  her  veins,  will  agree  that  the  trite  saying  applies  to 
the  attention  which  this  story  commands. — New  York  Sun. 

THE  WINGS  OF  THE  MORNING 

"  Here  is  a  story  filled  with  tke  swing  of  adventure. 
There  are  no  dragging  intervals  in  this  volume  :  from  the 
moment  of  their  landing  on  the  island  until  the  rescuing 
crew  find  them  there,  there  is  not  a  dull  moment  for  the 
young  people — nor  for  the  reader  either.*' — New  York 
Times. 

THE  KING  OF  DIAMONDS 

"  Verily,  Mr.  Tracy  is  a  prince  of  story-tellers.  His 
charm  is  a  little  hard  to  describe,  but  it  is  as  definite  as 
that  of  a  rainbow.  The  reader  is  carried  along  by  the 
robust  imagination  of  the  author. — San  Francisco  Exam 
iner. 


GROSSET    &     DUN  LAP,    NEW  YORK 


NEW    EDITIONS    IN     UNIFORM    BINDING 


WORKS  OF 

F.  MARION  CRAWFORD 

izmo,  Cloth,  each  75  cents,  postpaid 

VIA  CRUCIS  :  A   Romance  of  the   Second  Crusade. 

Illustrated  by  Louis  Loeb. 

Mr.  Crawford  has  manifestly  brought  his  best  qualities 
os  a  student  of  history,  and  his  finest  resources  as  a  master 
af  an  original  and  picturesque  style,  to  bear  upon  this  story. 

MR.   ISAACS  :  A  Tale  of  Modern  India. 

Under  an  unpretentious  title  we  have  here  one  of  the 
most  brilliant  novels  that  has  been  given  to  the  world. 

THE  HEART  OF  ROME. 

The  legend  of  a  buried  treasure  under  the  walls  of  the 
palace  of  Conti,  known  to  but  few,  provides  the  frame 
work  for  many  exciting  incidents. 

SARACINESCA 

A  graphic  picture  of  Roman  society  in  the  last  days  of 
the  Pope's  temporal  power. 

SANT'   ILARIO  ;  A  Sequel  to  Saracinesca. 

A  singularly  powerful  and  beautiful  story,  fulfilling  every 
requirement  of  artistic  fiction. 

IN  THE  PALACE  OF  THE  KING  :  A  Love  Story 

of  Old  Madrid.      Illustrated. 

The  imaginative  richness,  the  marvellous  ingenuity  of 
plot,  and  the  charm  of  romantic  environment,  rank  this 
novel  among  the  great  creations. 

GROSSET    &    DUNLAP,    NEW  YORK 


HERETOFORE     PUBLISHED     AT     Si. 50 

NOVELS    BY   JACK    LONDON 

I2MO.,   CLOTH,   75    CENTS  EACH,   POSTPAID 

THE   CALL  OF   THE  WILD 

With  Illustrations  by  Philip  R.  Goodwin  and  Charles  Livingiton  Bull 
Decorated  by  Charles  Edward  Hopper 

"A  tale  that  is  literature  ...  the  unity  of  its  plan 
and  the  firmness  of  its  execution  are  equally  remarkable 
...  a  story  that  grips  the  reader  deeply.  It  is  art,  it 

is  literature It  stands  apart,  far  apart  with 

so  much  skill,  so  much  reasonableness,  so  much  convinc 
ing  logic." — N.  T.  Mail  and  Express. 

"A  big  story  in  sober  English,  and  with  thorough  art 
in  the  construction  ...  a  wonderfully  perfect  bit  of 
work.  The  dog  adventures  are  as  exciting  as  any  man's 
exploits  could  be,  and  Mr.  London's  workmanship  is 
wholly  satisfying." — The  New  York  Sun. 

"The  story  is  one  that  will  stir  the  blood  of  every 
lover  of  a  life  in  its  closest  relation  to  nature.  Whoever 
loves  the  open  or  adventure  for  its  own  sake  will  find 
«The  Call  of  the  Wild'  a  most  fascinating  book." — 
The  Brooklyn  Eagle. 

THE   SEA   WOLF 

Illustrated  by  W.  J.   Aylward 

"  This  story  surely  has  the  pure  Stevenson  ring,  the 
adventurous  glamour,  the  vertebrate  stoicism .  'Tis  surely 
the  story  of  the  making  of  a  man,  the  sculptor  being 
Captain  Larsen,  and  the  clay,  the  ease-loving,  well-to-do, 
half-drowned  man,  to  all  appearances  his  helpless  prey." 
—  Critic. 

GROSSET    &    DUNLAP,     NEW  YORK 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  5O  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $1.OO  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


AUG  10  1937 

SEP  22  io>7 

NOV  17  1942 

RECEIVED 

••  "i-P-Rp 

j 

LuAN   DEPT. 

LD  21-5m-6,'37 

C  D  3 1  fl  1 D  t,  D 1 


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